The Raven Cafe

once upon a cafe dreary, while i coded weak and weary, \\
over many a quaint and curious kilobyte of forgotten code.

While I nodded, nearly crashing, suddenly there came a cracking, \\
As of some one gently hacking, hacking at my kernel's door. \\ 
`'Tis some cracker,' I muttered, `hacking at my kernel's door - \\
Only .ru, and nothing more.'

Ah distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak Portland November\\
and each caffinated hipster pressed their boots upon the floor. \\
Eagerly I wished the mocha; - vainly I had sought to soda \\
From teh cooler surcease of buzz - buzz for the lost barrista - \\