Whiskey Bottle

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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