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 “