Always chuffed when invited
To a vernissage
I act as a guide to Mr T
The often gregarious
At times a contemp friend
Interested in a future exhibition
Where he could find a venue
For the artwork of his late Dad.
Klien the velotaxi driver
Is certainly a young man who
Knows his way around Vienna’s
Erected for the members of
While the genuine chambers
Are renovated and refurbished.
Mr T is not agreeable with the
Price for the fare
He assesses as being half of
What Klien charges.
Having never small change
I’ll come to his aid handing him
A few coins.
During assembly time chilled
Water and processed orange juice
While Mr T darts restlessly around
In search of the parliament’s host
He finally hands him a flier from
The last exhibition of his Dad’s art.
The speakers finished
The folk famished
The crowd swarms to the buffet
Wines and cold drinks flow.
Our pleasant server speaks Farsi
Arabic and German
Replenishes our drinks with a smile
Reminding me of warrior reliefs
What about the exhibited art?
Mr T asks the poet.
‘Let’s join the guide and find out’
The poet replies.
To the poet it’s related to politics
But with some of the abstract
Any interpretation is possible.
Long live the exhibited art in the
Parliament! Someone says
It’s building a bridge between
Politicians and artists.
Viva the murmuring crowd seems to