The poetry pub in Dublin

I was in sauna in Dublin, - me and Una went swimming, Una was my swimming-princess, although she hasnt got the princess-syndrom, maybe she has, - anyway, I was in the sauna and told everybody I was a poet, and then a man repairing cars told me there was a pub in Dublin they always had poetry-reading.
Oh, where is that, I said.
If you cross the Millinium-bridge (pronounced millihimmmihimlmmimimmihniuuum) from the north bank of Liffey and go to right, there is this pub.
Cross the bridge and go right?
Yes, you remember the two ladies in stone?
Yes.
There is the bridge, go over the bridge and right.
Okay, thankyou.
Few days later I followed those instruction, there was a handsome beggar on the bridge, he gave a sign I was cool. There was a pub on the right side and I went inside, it was in the middle of day, a few people hanging there with guiness I suppose.
What you want love, the bartender said.
Oh, nothing for me, I am recovered alchoholic.
Understand love.
I was told here might be a poetry reading.
Here?
Yes, if I cross the bridge, go to right.
Never been here or anywhere around, never heard of it.
Okay, but I am poet and I could tell you a poem if you want to.
Sure love sure.
So I told them the poem I wrote in Dublin about the lonlyness.

My lonlyness
is a white flower
that opens up
in my chest.

Very good, the bartender said, is it the lonlyness that comes after having a beer.
No, its just the lonlyness, I said.
Then I bow, said thankyou and the audience clapped their hands. I opened the door and said: Now there is a pub where there is a poetry-reading, - if you cross the bridge and go to right.