Annual downtown Montreal bar poem

For the past five or six years, I’ve taken the liberty, in fact, several liberties, and composed a Christmas poem. This rhyming tradition aims to poke a little fun at the many people I have come to know in several downtown Montreal bars. If you’re not familiar with this community, you may still get a chuckle or two.

Days before Christmas, we gathered to share our Santa lists,
We had to start early, as many were soon pissed.

Some didn’t want to expose their list, some even got miffed,
So for these folks I’ve taken the liberty of suggesting their gift.

So here it comes, fueled by Jameson and Christmas glee,
Yes, you guessed it, my annual attempt at yuletide poetry.

‘Twas the night before Christmas, we all came in from the rink,
Exercise is one thing, but what we really wanted was a drink.

Allen’s a Hurley’s guest to whom the staff love to cater,
For Christmas this year all he really wants is an elevator.

Bert is well known for his good looks and handsome hair,
He’s asking that this year be one with no ransomware.

DonnyMac stays slim and trim, it’s the way he lives
He’s asked Santa for a year without too many adjectives.

Doug misses his weekends grilling campsite meals,
Maybe Santa will bring him a new chalet on wheels.

The folks at McKibbin’s celebrated an anniversary, but lost a familiar face,
There’s certainly no doubt that Kevin was truly an Amazing Grace.

Lee is a dog lover, he cares for them from head to paws,
At this time of year he takes them to the beach, to see Sandy Claws.

TimO is saving the world, he’s doing it one honey bee at a time,
Clearly a year’s supply of Epi-Pens, would suit him just fine.

Military George dropped in, he’s relaxed not nervous,
We should all thank him for his service.

Bobby’s a straight arrow, he’s anything but shifty,
He’s glad they solved the Blue supply issue, he was fed up drinking Fifty.

Brendan’s a hunter, he prepares steaks, and a fine stew,
But that won’t stop him from taking a gift card for Chalet BBQ.

When Russia invaded Ukraine Guy did not weep or cry,
Rather he thought maybe there might be a few bucks in it for a retired spy. 

Hurley’s owners Tommy and Bill came in for some seasonal cheer,
I wish them health, success, and maybe a lowering of the price of beer?

Of new business ideas Paul Quinn is a great pursuer,
There’s no end to the possibilities since he became a brewer.

Franky Fanelli stays in shape, he works out and is a jogger,
This year he found a place for those old kegs of Irish Embassy Lager.

Next time you fly to India but your bags go to Shannon,
Please don’t blame it on luggage ramp champ Joe Canon.

Sharron arrives first, some say she’s Katy’s advance security,
In reality it gives her a chance to down an extra Twisted Tea.

Katy’s a wealth of pop culture knowledge, ask anyone who knows,
Her wish from Santa is simple, the return of the Expos.

Stan’s an expert on markets both Bear and Bull,
Hopefully his client’s pockets will always be full.

Dan’s a traditionalist who likes his chips and fish,
He’s also pretty fond of fine whiskeys that are Irish 

Peter looks forward to taking his grandkids sledding,
He’d sure like Santa to pay for his daughter’s wedding. 

Arnesh watches his cholesterol, he goes easy on the quiche,
Now if only he could get Allan to stop calling him Rashish.

Billybob shuns shots, he doesn’t like his booze chugged,
He does like peace and quiet, so he’s often earplugged.

Kevin the Roofer’s visits are rare, he pick’s his spots,
Even though he’s not drinking, he buys us all shots.

Antony had some health issues that affected his ability to party,
Here’s hoping Santa helps him to be healthy, hale, and hearty. 

He keeps his hair well-trimmed, short but not an afro,
He’s dangerous after a few beers when he becomes Honest Laszlo.

Laz works on construction of the STM garage, he makes a pretty dime,
In addition, he’s stealing a bus, one backpack at a time.

There’s only one thing that makes Blair stay here and not go,
That’s the cost of the weekly commute to Hurley’s from Toronto.

When it comes to a vacation Jim shuns a Mexican playa,
He much prefers McKibbin’s Tuesday jambalaya.  

Sid took a tumble, now he prays to St. Michael,
Hopefully he’ll soon be back on his beloved motorcycle.

Murray chuckled when he heard Sid had been prone,
Karma soon kicked in and he had a fall of his own.

ConU Andy and I make up one of the odder pairs,
We often sit opposite at bars, just trading angry glares.

Tugboat Tom is young at heart although in years a senior,
No doubt he’s certainly earned the title of the Monsignor.

Kurt’s the kitchen boss, he wields a lot of clout,
This year he even co-brewed his own smoky stout.

Morgana stays sober yet the occasional shot she guzzles,
She’s hoping for a year of solvable crossword puzzles.

Makers Mark continues to seek fortune and fame,
At least he can now remember my name.

Teresa at McKibbin’s still rules with an iron hand,
Hoping Santa brings her a nice visit home to Ireland.
N Bar’s Natasha has upped her game a few notches,
She asks Santa for a run on fine scotches.

SaraC constantly gets in my way, I tell no falsehoods,
When not slinging pints she becomes Sara in the Woods

G.M. Rod is teaching an MBA course when time does permit,
It’s called ‘Bar Management: If it ain’t broke don’t fix it’.

When it comes to locks and security Shelly is a great reference,
But when it comes to Doug getting home sober, she’s a bad influence.

About returning to the bar world TimB does not bother,
He’s doing just fine thank you being Rooney’s father.

Busdriver Bob was there, looking good certainly not sick,
Must be something about those trips to the Dominican Republic.

Chef Tim keeps one eye open when he naps,
He’s afraid someone will steal his collection of caps.

Brad watched closely this year’s World Cup,
In truth, it’s an excuse to go out and pints sup.

When it comes to downtown bars, Park Ex Christos puts his stamp,
In the process he’s becoming a true Worldle champ.

Murph plays cards like a feline, yep, he’s a cheetah,
Regardless, he still makes a mighty fine pizza.

Richard’s a matinee idol, with the ladies he does flirt,
He denies that, but he’s the only guy on St. Catherine Street without a shirt!

G.M. Rod is teaching an MBA course when time does permit,
Called Bar Management: If it ain’t broke don’t fix it.

Ritchie and Roxy dropped in hoping to hear a Christmas band,
As always I thank them for letting us celebrate on their land.

Most importantly I tip my hat to all bar staff and wish them happy holidays,
Hoping Santa brings you what you all deserve, a nice big fat raise.

Some people ask why I attempt to spread this rhyming cheer,
With so many people in the poem, I won’t have to buy a drink all year.

I always add an apology to those I may have omitted,
After a few drinks, well I seem to become dim-witted.

Things were better in 2022, with a lot less fear,
For 2023 I wish you all health, good fortune, and cheer! 

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

2 thoughts on “Annual downtown Montreal bar poem

  1. Linda Blackwell Phelan December 22, 2022 — 9:00 pm

    Bravo, Deegan! Lin

    Sent from my iPad


  2. Brilliant

    Sent from my iPad


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