Oh, she takes care of herself. She can wait if she wants. She’s ahead of her time. Oh, and she never gives out. And she never gives in. She just changes her mind.
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?
