The class
Is on draught
Von fass
As the hushed
And crafty conversations
Still waft
From the dusty
Sun cracked windows
Beaming on
Your glass
Of schnapps
Made from
Indiscernible fruit
Listen close
Above the
Bistro chair creak
In this perfectly
Noir bar
In the haze of
The over-proof
And you’ll hear
The root of 80s
East Berlin plots
As the rotunda
Polishes thick glasses
In his thick glasses
‘Bove a ruddy smile
In the eye-line
Tobacco haze
Do not make plans
You’ve been here a while
You’ll be here for days
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