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