Being too hung-over to work this morning I have decided to reflect upon my eveing last night in verse. The Atheist and the Vindaloo I went for a curry one Thursday late With an atheist from work Pints of inspiration Had sparked conversation About the heavens the seas and the earth ?Welcome to the Bahji? Said a waiter called Charlie And - ?Sir, would you try not to shout? So we swore to being sober As he beckoned us over For the pub had ejected us out The Bahji in Borough is a sight to behold Like an opulent temple of yore Every chair is unique And the linen plastique And joss-sticks drop ash on the floor As we took to a table Just a little unstable Upsetting a banker en-route Charlie told us of specials Served in stainless-steal vessels With the poppadums thrown in to-boot And there in the gloaming we spoke and we sang And were told to please shut-it or leave And there in the gloaming we drank and danced And the atheist spilt wine on my sleeve Next we got to talking about Hawking and Dawkins And I ordered a lamb Vindaloo ?Fuck you? said my friend ?I?ll believe what I want? And, ?Curry?s just Indian stew? So what could I do to placate my friend To relieve existential distress Except to drink to the virtues of spices and beer And the curve of her impressive chest Which earned me a kick in the shins I might add. (It?s serious business this poeting stuff);-)