A bar where my ego is patroned ,a bar where i can escape the wails of duty,a bar where i can barter an organ,a bar where i am heard in the din,a bar where i can vacillate between obscurity & fame,a bar where there is a method to pour but not to gulp

A bar akin to a ravine,a grand steep one….

at which sanity can only overlook,at which sanity can only heckle,at which sanity can only privately envy

But to which sanity can never reach,because it is wearing her velvet shoes….

Image – A bar at the follies by Manet (Wikipaintings.org )