Somehow,
much as she liked it,
these days,
she found Czech beer typically
had a tinge of something redolent
of fly spray.
Still, as she waited for the moisturizer to soak into her upper body,
with each sip,
that tinge
twinged and teased another memory,
from near and far,
one could say,
her life flashed before her eyes.
Art model.
…
Imagine what it was like, a mass of humanity, writhing for change.
The Bierhalle, home away from home, a place to go, to drink good beer, eat boiled and/or steamed brats, commune with our fellow man (what about women?). Some music first, then speakers would speak, promote ideas, philosophies and actions.
Slightly inebriated, relaxed, your mind becomes receptive, and you can see the guy’s point of view. Yes, we need change, yes, we need action, and it is clearly the fault of “the other” that we are in this current sad situation. We must go forward!
