John the Barman (poem by J)

The only thing that stands between
the end of work and bed
is a man with eyes between
the back-sides of his head.
Just a dram,
a cup of tea
words that float within the sea
he swills with you
as time goes soft
productive plans that go aloft.
The horizontal barrier,
the bearded ouzo carrier
a cloven hoof, a missing tooth
the barman smiles again.