“Doctor Livingstone, Sir, I presume”
Said John Stanley to someone of whom
He could see just the arse
In the African grass ,
Since the doctor was prodding a womb!
Tag: colonialism
Memsahib
In the days of colonial splendour,
The night breeze blew perfumed and tender,
And many a night
It was memsahib’s delight
To sip gin, while she stroked her pudenda.
As it was
In the days of the Raj, in the tropics,
One talked, over gin, on such topics
As young native cunt,
And the thrill of the hunt…
Well, except for a few misanthropics!
Empire
Women, black, brown, all colours and creeds,
Said the captain, would serve a man’s needs.
Well, what else were they for?
Sluts, or spoils of war,
Or else bought for some trinkets and beads.