I mean Vilayat,
With Vilayati gait,
You need to keep something.
First, you need to dress in pants and a shirt
With the golden-framed stylistic glasses
Or maybe they the dark sunglasses
Over the face
And your face hidden from,
I mean you unrecognizable,
The audience calling you to take off the specs
And you smiling sweetly.
If you have to be a poet, it is better you smoke a cheroot
And it will look better to see you with the cheroot
On the lips
And the French-cut beards,
You driving the bike and going soemwhere,
Not less than a linguistician.
If you have to be a poet, you come suited and booted,
In a tie
And a handkerchief into the hands
And wearing a golden wrist watch
To go your way,
Only then we shall call you a poet.
You try to visit some foreign country
And tell the tales thereof,
Just say it that you have taught in foreign countries,
Just say it that
You had been abroad
Like a bluff-master
To get the votes in your favour.