June 4th, 2015.
Molly Malloy’s. Reading Terminal Market, Philadelphia.
Spicy hops of golden goodness slip past my teeth
In a strange little corner of a pulsing chaos
stretching a full city block.
Stuck in between magical places called
The Tubby Olive and Head Nut,
Facing down the neon sign glare from one of thirteen cheese shops,
This beer tastes like the promise of salty snacks and good decisions
And in the throb of bustling commerce,
The ebb and flow of a thousand conversations,
I can finally relax.
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