Drinks at The Drunken Crow

Once upon a night most cheery, drenched in neon with vision smeary,
Over quaint discussion banishing the digital bore,
I suddenly found my thoughts retreating, bereft of vigor,
My pummeled heart still beating amid time's betrayal still repeating,
Just as there came a subtle rustle atop the entrance door.
Perched there, slickly dark and eerie, a stygian bird I could not ignore.
Quoth the Crow, "Have one more."

"Fowl Tempter," said I, awaiting laughter I was owed in theory,
"The hour grows unreal and my breath is beery; 'tis no spoil of war.
Faint tragedy, perhaps, but the Meetup group is weary—and furthermore!
Leave my happiness unbroken to ogle the waitress smokin',
Leave your infantile dare unspoken, and further I implore—
Gather thy feathered ass posthaste and remove it from that door."
Quoth the Crow, "Have one more."

To the Crow, never flitting, still sitting, completely shitting
All over the evening's peaceful end, I did roar,
"Siren! Thing of evil! I shall not sleep upon this tavern floor!
Imbibed have I to overheating, ordered rounds all 'round as if competing,
Coronas and shots of el Jimador, downed with zeal quite self-defeating;
Detonated bombs, drank the Midnight Meeting and Mules galore,
Abused my fleeting sense of meaning 'til my liver's sore and bleeding!
Hear me, wicked bird—I can stomach not another pour!"
Quoth the Crow, "Have one more."

Since opening earlier this year, The Drunken Crow has amassed a loyal collection of followers eager to sing the bar's praises. With a 4.9 rating on Google and the #4 spot on Yelp's list of the best pizza in Vancouver, the place has had my interest piqued for a minute now. I can't think of a more thematically appropriate month than October to inspect such a venue, so let's get together and check it out. The volumes of forgotten lore will still be there on Monday.