Crazy Mummer

Lust, the half remembered Harlequin,
steps up behind you on cat feet,
and whispers:
"That's a bit of all right".
Then saunters off,
leaving you, red eared
at the deliciousness
of the sin.
Monsieur Love is there then,
with convoluted, courtly manners
and elegant fol-de-rols.
He inspects the top of his walking cane
and asks you:
"What did they mean when they said
'Hello' and 'Nice day'?"
Then he goes to read his mail.
Finally there is Mr. Punch
with his slap-stick
and belled hat.
But all he says is "Putcha!".
Not much help in that.
So the play moves on
and you are trapped inside.
Foil to the actors,
unsure of your next line.
While desperately,
playing for time.