promises made

bits of paper found

when preparing to thin the herd

promises made to her

& her

of fidelity

undying love

devotion

oodles of moon in June

romantic guff

thrown there on the line

from the low depths of self pity

anguish of being thrown over

& now?

I have no idea

of where she is

or her

no trace of the love

I put down

no irony there

in the phrases of eternal care

bimble

where does the strut go?

when?

one day you notice your walk

mostly because there in front of you

some youngblood stud happy soul

showing out for the ladies in the crowd

has got his shoulder roll strut on

bowling down the avenue

as you notice your own

shambling slow walking bimble

where

when

did your strut go

you stopped showing out for the honeys

flying your line to hook them in

stop looking for a catch

today?