Beer Review Poem: Boston Beer Company's Samuel Adams White Ale
After Wang Xiaoni's White Moon
The midnight moon exposes every fail.
I smell no hints of spice.
All the Witbier's flavors
are missing like Charlie Horman.
The beer is a no.
No single drink
can make this seem a Wit.
I lift my tongue to swirl beer
hope for hints of citrus
until I forget to swallow.
White Ale's lasting impression
is as an unnecessary remake of Summer Ale.
The beer lands in my belly
leaving my wanting mouth.