Bohemian ad nauseum in Moscow?

The cafe tonight full of poets,

their audience,

and their smoke.

Some well known, I hear.

Rising puffs of smoke made clear

cigarettes the unpoetic do not know,
are au courant again.

A chamber of chain smokers,

'tweenst Lubyanka and Chisti Prudi...

All looked like poets should look,

and acted like poets should act,

and were all polite and ardent

       as polite poets' are wont.

It all seemed, to me,

unconsciously,

a "bohemian" evening,
in act.