In the city of Himmel,
Where gods don’t roam and governments mean nothing
Everyone-young and old, big and small alike drink
To each his poison
From the ever-living Walker Street
Gods make no law here and the coppers don’t roam the streets, all the law is in the hands of but one deity
A demigod, the holder of the law, the Bartender of the Club of Beings, the solo reflection Haven of Walker Street
In his hands is wisdom
Shaken,stirred, or poured into glass
From the bottle, the only standard of Himmel
Drink is free, bottles too
The law is based on a few principles
For everyone at every time has a bottle in hand or on the shelves of the limitless bar
The bar is the courthouse and the bottles hold the poison of enlightenment
Poison too sweet to keep away from
For it’s haze of wisdom is needed for the everyday reflection
And might just the problem solving epiphany
To the ruminations on problems that plague the minds of every man that walks the streets of Himmel.
The bottle is the law
But the keeper is no judge
True judgement of a man’s worth is based on
How he drinks his liquor, what he does with his blur of wisdom
And how many bottles he’s run through -how much purpose, adventure and life he’s lived- in the “short ” life allotted to everyone, earthling and himmellus alike
These laws laid down by the bottle
Gives classes in the society of Himmel
There’s the fool,
The keeper’s most dissatisfying customer,
The owner of the fullest bottle and the source of all the folly
That pervades the streets of our dear, old city
His wisdom in the bottle is of the basest of liquors, and like the owner
Only brings woe and a shallow haze to the one who drinks of it
Hence his bottle stands full because he’d rarely use it,
So the keeper places it to shelf so he wouldn’t lose
Along with a shot glass, on the crown of the bottle
For the blue moon night that he stumbles into the bar
And asks for his single filling
To last for another day
Counted according to God’s standard
Full bottles are not always for the fool however,
Because even new life has a bottle
And there are no Halls of Fame, no bottles emptied and hence no life lived
For those whose lives aren’t given the luxury of time before the Reaper, book thief and wail raiser comes knocking
Their bottles are saved for others
People are forgotten by the keeper if they live without purpose or too quickly to grasp his attention
And their bottles poured for the next life who wanders into the Club of Souls
Himmel has its gossips and busybodies
Who pay their drinks with the utmost disregard
And give their attentions to the other drunks, the drinks, glasses and the number of other men who wish to drink of their daily bartender’s poison
Sit not beside this class of men
Because like the fool, they have naught to offer,
Only their mouths and their noses for the sniffing and drinking of your poison
Without giving you nothing in return
But some are the best ones to turn to if the drink and mixer’s poison of a rival is needed
For unlike the fool they might drink of your wisdom, in surplus to requirement and actually learn from the enlightenment the tender of the bar has to give for the friend they sit beside
They also have the best knowledge of the best bottles and can serve as the memory of Himmel if they tarry in the bar long enough to drink under the table often enough
The dreamer is not exempted from the bar
His liquor runs out of the bar by the bottle
He gives the keeper the most joy and the most headaches,
Because his drink is full of ambition from all walks of life,
But he rarely drinks it all before his next bottle flies off the shelf
Our next drunk is the sage,
The slowest but surest of all those who partake of the keeper’s nectar
He drinks to the last drop, and ruminates on every glass that is slid his way
And every glass is cool of the finest elixirs from the tender’s cellars
The keeper is Lord
And gives your poison from his cellars
According to his whim and not by choice of the drinker
His mix is by his discernment of your needs
And not by the wish of the drunk, but he never turns away anyone who wills to stumble onto his threshold
His unpredictable cocktails give rise to the Himmellus saying
The bartender is always right and your poison for today is never wrong,
The keeper of the bar has just the right drink for the right time and your immediate troubles might need another day’s drink
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