The Taproom 

Sitting in the taproom,

choice of beers in chalk,

the usual suspects,

IPAs and a one off, wheat.

The place is crowded,

people drinking their pint,

one group playing giant jenga,

while the beer tour gets lectures.

Some are there for beer,

others to forget,

life’s ambiguities set out,

it’s no wonder folks are tense,

what was once simple,

has become complex.

Relationships reduced,

to a finite number.

Are they men, are the women,

or something else entirely.

So they drink their beer,

pint after pint,

then home they go,

as confused as ever,

seeking redemption,

or a little peace,

only to find bitterness

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