NEEDLING

Give it a good nose. It’s like they got me a whole forest in my glass. No ice needed. Matter fact, you put ice in that there glass sir and I might just get myself so upset I kick you out of the house. That’s right, sir, you heard me right. I’ll kick you right out of the house if you put ice in that there glass. But we all know you ain’t putting no ice in your glass... Because you know better. That’s right.

Give it a great nose. Just bring up that little glass up to your face and stick your clarinet, your trumpet, your two hole burner right in there. That’s right, take a big snifter... Shyster! Smells like the queen’s asleep on hard bed made of sweet oak. Like she’s sweating sweetly her bodily odors down her gown and her knickers. Sweet young queen barely eighteen, sleeping on peat and wood giving pleasure to the peasantry. Unscrupulous... unethical methods to reel me into that glass of pure woody delightful liquid.

Then take a bite, bring the rim of that there glass to your lips and pray to god you got all your sensors on. And if you don’t they’ll be on before you know what’s happening. That sleeping freshness of purity will wake up blasting in a pure fresh stream right out of the rocks from a long ago ice age of dolmens and druids flowering right there in your palate. You can just stare right at the dirty yellow walls of your house and nothing’s wrong... it’s like a whole forest of autumn silence with the leaves turning bright red and orange, yet the chilly winds are churning up in between the trunks of this oak and hazelnut forest... a certain warmth is felt inside out... the ocean is grizling up getting ready for winter... the wood pile near the fire place is reaching the ceiling...

You don’t drink the stuff, you chew it.