Paris was alcohol-free: we were sober

college kids broke vegans and veggies

having hummus tapas for dinner

one girl from the group lived in a spacious

apartment in Saint Germain-des-Prés

but we always ended up in my tiny studio

in le Marais with no oven

a fold-up table the size of a laptop

half of us eating on the bed

we never drank but chatted until 1 am

we the English and cinema students

apprentice filmmakers actors writers

Paris was alcohol-free

because my friend’s father drank

and some scientific studies suggest

that alcoholism is hereditary

so they were afraid to have

a glass of wine a beer even a sip

I thought they were making a fuss

I bought a bottle of champagne

to celebrate the admission of one of them

to a prestigious cinema school

with his contorted face and clenched jaw

he looked like he was drinking cyanide

Paris was alcohol-free but not the suburbs

my godmother invited me to her house

for a Sunday lunch or a Saturday evening

her partner from Lyon introduced me

to specialities from his region

rosette quenelles grattons

and Saint-Joseph a red wine from

the Northern Rhône made from Syrah

with blackcurrant and black pepper notes

too high in alcohol for my inexperienced

taste buds they always opened a bottle

when I came I felt pampered

in this home away from home drinking

good wine by the fire in winter

all these little gestures a declaration of love