Boulevard Brewing Company’s Imperial Stout (Bottle 02021)

After Anna Akhmatova’s I Wrung My Hands:

I wrung my hands pouring this dark ale. . .
“Viscous like oil, what makes you special?”
— Because I have made myself drunk
with an Imperial Stoutness.

I’ll never forget. It poured a massive, thick head;
its mouthful was twisted, biting. . .
I let the bottle warm downstairs, too cold yet for proper tasting,
and once warm tasted it again with the wife.

And surprisingly, drinking: “I marvel at your complexity
and character. A big, potent beer, best shared with others.”
The empty bottle smiled at me — oh so calmly, terribly —
and said: “If you can find me again, buy another.”

Boulevard Brewing Company’s Imperial Stout (Bottle 02021)

Beer Review Poem: Weston Brewing Company’s O’Malley’s Cream Ale Irish Style

After Dylan Thomas’s Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not pick up a sixer of this Cream Ale tonight,
Bad beer should be burned and thrown far, far away;
Rage, rage against the drinking of this blight.

Though wise men at their end know good beer is right,
Because their lips had tasted what a good beer is they
Do not pick up a sixer of this Cream Ale tonight.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
This failed beer should have tasted on a warm day,
Rage, rage against the drinking of this blight.

Wild men who gulped and sipped tasty brews in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved them on their way,
Do not pick up a sixer of this Cream Ale tonight.

Grave men, near death, who drink with blinding sight
No head, no flavor, like a foul macrobrew, not OK,
Rage, rage against the drinking of this blight.

And you, the brewer, there on the sad height,
Curse me no more with your foul brew, I pray.
Do not pick up a sixer of this Cream Ale tonight.
Rage, rage against the drinking of this blight.

Beer Review Poem: Weston Brewing Company’s O’Malley’s Cream Ale Irish Style

Beer Review Poem: Boulevard Brewing Co’s Irish Ale

After Sir Samuel Ferguson’s Cean Dubh Deelish

Thicken your head, darling, darling, darling,
  Your darling off-white head my lips above;
O mouth of nutty, with hops for fragrance,
  Who, with taste for red ales, could deny you love?

O many and many a 12 oz. bottle for me is waiting,
  Letting its lace of spun wool to the pint glass free,
For many, the foremost of our Boulevard beers;
  But I’d rather a ZŌN, (or Bob’s), for me!

Then dissolves your head, darling, darling, darling,
  Your dissapating off-white head my lips above;
O mouth of nutty, with hops for fragrance,
  Who, with taste for red ales, could deny you love?

Beer Review Poem: Boulevard Brewing Co’s Irish Ale

Beer Review Poem: Boulevard Brewing Co’s Saison-Brett (Bottle 03349)

After Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet XLIII

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
This beer can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Bottle and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday’s
Most thirsty need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as brewers strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a thirst put to use
In my old griefs, and with my adolescence’s tastes.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, — I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of my beer life! — and, if God choose,
I shall drink naught but thee unto death.

Beer Review Poem: Boulevard Brewing Co’s Saison-Brett (Bottle 03349)