Because we all want to write more poems.
Tavern
A man of reassuring bulk
filled the bar room door,
hesitated would not be
the right word. He was
a force unto himself,
waiting for a right moment
to do whatever was next in
his day now that it was
coming to an end in
the North End Tavern where
names are irrelevant,
where size does matter.
where drinks are bought,
shared with a friendly crowd.
- Clayton Medeiros's Shared Poems
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