Peppered Shrimp
On a drive thru Mandeville one fall,
My Dad stopped at a roadside stall.
He bought red shrimp in bags of
paper,
The aroma was the scent of shrimp
and pepper.
Baked so well, there was no need to
shell,
Popped one into my mouth, my Jaw
fell.
Fire in the hole I yelled, as my sis
snickered,
She bit into hers with gusto, she was
not bothered.
My Mom,prepared, handed me a
bottle of milk,
Took two sips to quench the flame
from peppers ilk.
As bad as it burnt, that shrimp was
so tasty,
Bit into another again and again milk
now less hasty.
An acquired taste this was, this
explosion,
Of seasoned pepper and shrimp so
delightful,
Before I knew it I had munched
through my bag all full.
Tears in my eyes, pepper had my
tongue wrapped,
Reached for my sis's bag, only to
have knuckles rapped.
Now with none to munch, it truly set
in my colon,
Fire below was my scream, looking
forlorn.
Lactose intolerant, milk and pepper
shrimp?
Relief stop in the bush, rectum in full
crimp.
Pontiak
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