And he had said,
"Ladakh is a barren piece of land,
Let the Chinese have it,
Nothing grows over there,
And it's a useless piece of territory,
The lesser the liabilities for my government,
The better."

And the Chinese still sit in Aksai Chin,
That part he called barren,
It's our lost land that China usurped,
Yes, the expansionist China,
And how shamelessly he escaped his duty,
His responsibility to maintain the integrity,
Of our nation he ought've known the nitty-gritty.

But now we face an uphill task,
That Hindi-Cheeni Bhai-Bhai,
It's now a laughing stock,
Yes, sir, people laugh at it,
Albeit less than they do at your scion,
The same scion who has nil experience,
And simply a negative IQ, perhaps.

But that was just one of your mistakes, sir,
How can we forget your ambition to be the Prime,
Even at the cost of the national integrity,
You let them unleash a rein of terror,
Both the sides suffered civilian casualties,
Not just the dead I refer to,
I also refer to the ***** and mutilated.

You behaved so power-hungry,
So irresponsible and immature,
So ignorant and inexperienced,
So unwise and unintelligent,
Of that post, oh sir,
That position that you won by your clout,
You knew that Bhai made a better choice.

Yet you felt entitled to the post,
By the mere virtue of your birth,
Born with a silver spoon in your mouth,
Linen sheets underneath your body,
Much like your dumb scion,
Yes, the very same one who fumbles.

He fumbles in his speech,
And in his lack of preparation,
The Grand Old Party, it trembles,
Trembling under the unwanted burden,
Voices of dissent grow louder,
The Party you usurped is slipping away,
Drifting further everyday.

so now, do I, I do,

he favors the the top of my breast ,
where the spaghetti strap leads
his eye lower, to the fulsome swelling,
curves he favors in a linear
world

these magnets of human flesh are
attributes of me, unsolicited, part
of my “collegial endowment” and
yet,
no denial,
this egg of my accent,
a fullness employable, knows well,
full employment

ah, mon oeuf d'accent,
the accent of my accidental,

for lives are just linear lines
warped occasionally, nicely.
swelling in wonderful frailty,
the curvature of the human
eyes, that draw curves of
human spirit,

thar are drawn by sprites
with wickedly humorous
insight