We'll tour the coffee houses

The photocopier felt like it was becoming
one of my limbs
and when the telephone rang I flinched
like the recuperating victim of a Rottweiler attack.
So the next day I phoned work up

claiming gastric flu
and booked flights for us
to Vienna.

We toured the coffee houses,
they sprinkled hundreds and thousands
over your first hot chocolate
I kept all the the biscuits that came with my coffees

to give to my grandparents at Christmas,
We tipped generously in every cafe
you always asked the waiter to rate your German.
In one cafe we ordered goulash
and apple strudel
because it was what the waiter recommended

he smiled when we ordered seconds.
We found one cafe by the Opera House
where we bought postcards
which we wrote out not to friends

but to people we had not spoken to for years.
In one cafe we ate ice-cream in tall glasses
five scoops, all different flavours
the waitress looked at us in disbelief
as we ate, too cold to take off our coats.

You wanted to play the grand piano in Cafe Central
and when I urged you to do it
you walked over to the stool,
your hands hovered over the keys
and you played the theme tune
to Rugrats.