Caren Krutsinger Poet Rhyme

Lets Go To Shaggys

Let’s go to Shaggy’s the preteens say.
They live in Malibu, so they know the way.
I figure Shaggy’s has tenderloins, burgers and fries.
I can hardly wait to get there; dune buggy goes over the rise.

This is Shaggy’s? I yelp, annoyed beyond compare.
It is not a food place at all, no barbeque smells in the air.
It’s a beach side shop, you can buy a surf board or a life jacket.
Shaggy’s is not my kind of place, I do not like this weird racket.

I wanted fried unhealthy, hot, salty bad-for-you-food.
This gift shop with trinkets and what-nots puts me in a bad mood.
I want my mouth to be happy, I want to feed.
I do not like surfing; I pull out my book to read.

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