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Joynt Love

Words pour from


the pitcher with a
rich lather of letters,
consonants and syllables.

Tiny thought bubbles


rise to the top of
my tongue. The taste
is sweet with innocence.

Beer is kind of like


blood, but more gold
than red. It still is a
necessary fluid for
life; happiness.

Why is the Joynt


such a joyous place?
Warm eyes and smiles
light my shadowed face.

My foot taps to the


tune, a steadied pace.
Spirit uplifted, my soul
feels gifted to know
a bar, I'd never replace.

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