my preference

well, i certainly didn't want any trouble at the frontier
or crossing the border,
so i was tempted to leave myself behind,
clothed or nude it wouldn't matter.
imagine, i feared, having to explain to a bearded young
customs man
why my hands seemed so soft and competent?
most likely i would be tempted to screw him over, shouting incoherent French.
and if he began to ask personal questions, it could go badly for me.
but i did have one regret, despite my love of adventure,
and that was the separate rooms i was being forced to live in.
and if officialdom mistook me for a man of substance,
then everything would change.  so i had to be careful.
my first concern was to be clean and well-fed, and after that
the thoughtful delights of a less luxurious brothel were at least affordable
and kept me in a good frame of mind.
i didn't need a library, for God's sake! but simply better shelter.
and for that, i shouldn't need to cross over or
make a nighttime trip in the pelting rain.
and with approaching old age,
maybe i wouldn't die, after all,
which is my preference.
so i studied the travel guides.