This Bogus Poetry

The Thai Park takes place in southwest Berlin every weekend. From spring to autumn a bunch of Thai ladies gather with camping stoves, cool boxes and supplies and make various delicious dishes . It got kind of famous now and there are always rumours that it will close down but each year so far it has started up again with the warmer weather. The 'soup lady' from the park even now has her own Imbiss (small restaurant) called Thai Art and all food there is always tasty. Photo from berlinfoodstories.com On this occasion several years ago the park was busy and buzzing as usual. The crowd sat around the park on the grass and blankets enjoying the food, sunbathing and having a generally lovely time in the sun. Set apart slightly there were a collection of older men seated around a table in a shady spot under a tree. I ambled over and saw that they were playing poker. Texas Holdem in fact. I watched a while longer and it appeared that they were playing for real money and th

I was in Austria. It was winter. The time was after midnight. I had busted the main event of a large poker festival. It had been close to the bubble in a hand where I had got it in good and been outdrawn on the river. I had invested the maximum time and emotional energy for no financial reward. I wasn't in a great frame of mind. The walk back to my accommodation took around 15 minutes. I remember it was snowing and that I had inappropriate footwear. My room was cheap and quiet, ideal for my needs. But there was a caveat to consider that I had half forgotten. When travelling for poker I often book someone's spare room instead of a whole apartment as it works out more affordable and I am hardly ever there. This time my host was a jovial guy in his 50s. He was awake when I got home and greeted me in the lounge with a friendly hello. I'd already been there three days but he took this moment to decide to ask me about life as a professional poker player. He asked all of the q