Two short poems by Vincent O'Sullivan
Skol A man I talked with in a bar in Berlin once read poetry, he said, with passion, served with distinction in an army he loathed. Beyond which he said little. He drank Schnapps. He advised, as we parted, to avoid epiphanies as I would gunfire. His phrase for ordering a Schnapps was 'to dim the lights'. The sentiment of goodly things The birds are back at the feeder now the