Tiny burgers at the Penguin bash

We were waiting for the news
about this year's Man Booker
and they brought us tiny burgers
and bottles of Bitburger
which was a nice symmetry.
They had the plasma screen
showing Huw from the BBC news
with the sound down.
It looked like the world was teetering
because the footage was of missiles
by grey-scale night vision.
And then it was a map
and North Korea glowing
like a big red button.
And we all felt a bit awkward
or angry or distant and Hari Kunzru
was there and Simon Armitage
was drunk
and the screen was showing troops
and dust and the bar
was decked out to seem tropical:
tall ribbed plants,
wooden decking,
a marquee roof like a yurt.
Then Huw went live to the ceremony
and they turned the sound up,
we were too drunk to be nervous,
the judge was a woman
and our book won the money
and the champagne came out
and everyone was pleased to be at the right bash
and there were four other publishing
parties in bars around town
that must have been shouting 'boo'
or maybe clapping politely
and I thepoet noticed that the popping
was like gun fire
and that the corks
resembled bombs as they fell
and I drank the champagne, sure,
but I was conscientious enough
to jot this stuff down.