Merrill asks us to write a poem of any style about a restaurant.
Going out for some fast food I often find myself
looking for the best of deals, no package off the shelf
I want my food cooked right there so I can see it when its done
Watching people cook up food can be a lot of fun
When I’m at a Mcdonald’s I see the patties cooked
I wonder if the cooker’s cares that I just took a look.
At the nearby steak place I smell and see the grill
They tell you that it tastes so good and usually it will
I used to do a salad bar before I heard the facts
People do not wash their hands or cover up their hacks.
When I think too hard about the food I get when I am out
I start to gag near hurling too, trying not to shout
“Go back home, this place is gross, they drop things on the floor
Grab your stuff but leave your food and head right out the door!
Bugs are here, the grill is burnt, oh God there is a hair!”
I grab my stuff and pay the bill to end this whole nightmare.
©2022 CBialczak Poetry