Terror on a Plate
It was terror that sat on a dainty plate,
the monster that I ate.
A starfish or a pentacle?
No, it was something with a tentacle.
I was shaken to my very core.
She asked, "never had sushi before?"
As I downed another saki, warm,
I felt she meant to do me harm.
From the seaweed in her hair,
eyes on stalks began to stare.
I couldn't take all the attention,
and murmured, "something I forgot to mention",
and dashed like hell right out the door.
Perhaps this serves to underscore
why I'm not dating anymore.
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