Sonnet Spoof Poem by Avik Datta Gupta

Dare I compare thee to a Summer's day.
Thou art more hot than the Summers of the Middle East.
Rough winds do take harsh sandstorms into play.
Eschew we argue we chew a barbequed beast.
Sometimes to harsh thou seemeth to shout and whine
And often times my throat has a sticky thorn.
And then cometh the time when the Sun above declines
Thou seemeth to lose cool even with the AC on.
Oh thine eternal summer shall not be out and worn.
As thou mocketh me with my moneys and lost charm
Thou art so sure to munch my brain for popping corn
Knowing well I could never do any harm
So long all men be men they all seem to be the same
So long I live thou shalt find me there.. to blame