I’ve tried to avoid that all my life. When I wrote about soldiers in Vietnam, I wasn’t trying to make a political statement. I was trying to write about how screwed things were for soldiers, and how they still are.
It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday, the regular crowd shuffles in / There’s an old man sitting next to me making love to his tonic and gin / He says, ‘Son, can you play me a memory?
