Emily Dickinson #214
I taste a liquor never brewed --
From Tankards scooped in Pearl --
Not all the Vats upon the Rhine
Yield such an Alcohol!
Inebriate of Air -- am I --
And Debauchee of Dew --
Reeling -- thro endless summer days --
From inns of Molten Blue --
When "Landlords" turn the drunken Bee
Out of the Foxglove's door --
When Butterflies - renounce their "drams" -
I shall but drink the more!
Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats --
And Saints -- to windows run --
To see the little Tippler
Leaning against the -- Sun --
Words left are the ones that are so specific that their meaning, even read closely, doesn't affect the poem.
Condensatorium #214
A feeling that might be like drinking alcohol by tankards - a lot.
Verifiable example of alcohol that exists.
Nature can make one feel carefree and uninhibited --
like a summer day, for example.
Bees are feeding, pollenating. Does the bee derive sexual pleasure or just nourishment? Would a flower say 'enough,' or a bar proprietor 'go, and take your money with you'. Landlord is in quotes so maybe not to be taken in the commercial sense, but as a moral conscience that is only thinking of its own duty, and somewhat ineffectual ... no matter where this takes place the drinking in of pleasure will continue.
Seraph -- down to earth or flying high, spiritual, and snowy.
Make a spectacle. Then go Icarus? Drink the Moonshine.