It doesn't work! I swear it must be broken.
"What?" Yes, despite my tender ministrations,
my fervid focus on the actors' actions,
each stand it makes stays stiff with but a token
of its former vigour. "And so frustration's
your reward?" You've got it - only mere fractions

of my efforts now rejoice in the climax
any younger man would welcome as his due.
The same urges are still there; i'm only old,
after all, not dead; but to my shame the fact's
the fact, and it seems there's nothing i can do
to alter that. Frankly, it's left me appalled,

confused, and so, so depressed. Life seems over
to me; though alone, sex was still important
to my wellbeing. "I don't know what to say,
old thing - my heart goes out to you. If ever
you need to talk, I'm here." Thank you: these potent
problems need addressing. "There must be a way

around them, other avenues to explore?
Don't give up, give in; your imagination
will provide." Yes, yes, you're right, of course. Perhaps,
in the fullness of time i'll unlock the door
that opens back to rigour, not frustration.
Perhaps, given patience, this will be a lapse,

not lack. "There you go! The answer is out there,
somewhere. Who knows, this might be the beginning,
not the end, of something new!" Aye, well maybe;
in my wildest dreams i'd find someone to share
this problem with - first aid comes with the winning
of a heart. This problem needn't needle me,

alone. I mean, it can't be solved at a stroke,
I know that much. My libido's a disgrace!
I feel unmanned, a eunuch! I get turned on,
then off it goes. Like a light. I need to talk
to someone. Yes, right: a lover's touch; displace
sex with tenderness, understanding - someone

who'll forgive my flops, with patience rekindle
my candle. What do you think? "I'd say you're right.
What passion is there in a fist? Raw friction
and mechanic traction. And flames must dwindle,
left untended. So find some wench who'll relight
your fire? Sure: lust can quench any affliction!"