Best Rathskeller Poems

They were cheaters but they were real,
the old bitoks. You could have a measure,
drink the devotees' own red winter cherry, and contemplate
the saxifrages in the...

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In a London pub fingers idly play with place mats.
Wonder-lust had led them back to where they assumed they had first met.
She recalled a local...

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Like wine
deep in the racks
poems 
carefully age
Each of a
vintage
a time and a place
— labeled to consume

(The Rathskeller: July, 2015) 
...

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