This Bogus Poetry

It is 1:30am and I am riding my bicycle through Berlin. A man pulls up beside me on a moped and slows down to my speed. He is waving his hands and shouting. He sounds angry. Or perhaps he is not actually angry and he is just shouting in German. When I hear people shout in German, I always think they are angry. I double check that I have my lights on and that I didn't just drive through a red traffic light. Momentarily I am confused. He is wearing a helmet and I recognise, him from somewhere, but can't quite place the face in the dark. I am also trying to concentrate on the road as I am a nervous cyclist at the best of times.  "So I had kings..." It isn't until I hear some poker related phrases that I realise that this is the man I have just beaten heads up in a poker tournament. He seems to be berating me once again for my play. This time from the back of a moped. I have a 10km to cycle home after my glorious victory in the nightly casino tournament in Berlin. I p...

To me the sound is unmistakable.  The repeated click clack echoing around the room as hundreds of people sit around those green felted tables. Mostly in reverent silence but punctuated by the occasional groan or roar of celebration and shout from a dealer or floorperson. Thousands of clay poker chips hitting each other repeatedly as players riffle them with their hands as they play cards. The Art of the Riffle For the uninitiated – a chip riffle is when you have two stacks of poker chips, perhaps four or five in each stack if you are a skilled ‘riffler’. Then you line them up side by side beneath your hand on the poker table. Using your fingers and thumb you create a little bit of air in between each chip and in one seamless motion merge them into one stack. Then separate and repeat. Is it for concentration? A habit? Something to do in the monotony of folding? Every riffler undoubtedly has their own reasons. A good set of clay poker chips has some weight to them, so gravity ...