Anyway, more from Ghent:
Some of the other clerks at the bureau
Would come to work in winter
Along the canals, their bone skates
Fleeting over the ice; I walked.
I had no use then for speed
Nor much for living, but with the dead
I always was patient.
At night I would drink with Melancthon
The reformer. Mild, absent-minded,
When he died he did not notice,
And went not to heaven or hell
But to Ghent. At the bureau
I helped him find work.
He wrote indecipherably; the demon
Adzok hired him to take notes
For a memor. (Needing cash, I had
Tried to sell Adzok my soul.
He said I should try to meet some girls).