shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Bob Perkins


Fascism, Communism, Capitalism, carrots

The small sign in the doorway breathes smoke
or maybe mist. Either way, it invites us in
to the Szimpla ruin bar in Budapest,
in to a building Hitler bombed
and Stalin did not repair.

Magyar students and yuppies
drink beneath the roofless sky,
flirt along the shattered walls.
Tourists are welcome.

A woman drifts among the tables
hawking carrots to couples for a buck apiece.
She says they make more sense than roses.
She sold 15 kilos last night.

After dread comes defiance, then irony, then nostalgia.

I tender you a small, expensive carrot.