He was an old guy cursed
with the preoccupation that he was a lady’s man
garnering lovers along the lane
and every time they ran from him
thought he
‘ tis how I play the game
and so on and so forth…
stumbling along, with a cane and a cup of tea
a morsel of bread, a touch of grey, a spot of insanity
he’d pause in front of his mirror to say
“Oh what a pretty thing
don’t tell the dust pan
for you know
she too
longs after me “
