There's quite a lot of sadness there,
hiding in his words : those Belgian
dudes know how to do it. Ghent, and
the battlefields before the ocean. What
I don't know, I suppose.
Having always liked the 'double entendre,'
I pretty much say what I like. That
woman today, she knew what I meant.
As I commented back to something she'd
said. 'Skirting the issue,' or something
like that I'd replied when she asked
what I was doing. It doesn't sound
like much now, but she knew where
I was headed.
Old now, it makes less of a difference
what words I utter. I hardly ever speak
anyway. It's become a real bore and I
live now mostly in my head.