Short Wine Bar Poems

The Norwegian club

We went there last night
it was set in a wine bar and the prize,15euro each, 
I refused to pay that much.
The bar was almost empty but for a group
of Norwegians who sat whispering in a corner
And there was no one to welcome us.
I was donating some books to the club
 left some of them on a table.
No one stirred.
I thought the scene was surreal.
We left and had a meal at a Portuguese
restaurant.
I suppose the books were thrown away
after closing time....

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The shop 
at the corner of my childhood
has stopped selling Danish pastry
and coco macrons
milk and cheese.
The room is bare
The cheese cutter is no longer there
And the old-fashioned weight
Doesn’t pling.
There is no butter
And no one asks why?
The bell that rang when opening 
The shop's door
Doesn’t ring anymore
The shop is overtaken by time.
Perhaps someone will buy the shop
Make a wine bar
Making us into middle-class alcoholics
I have sudden hunger for Danish pastry....

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