Sushi Bar Poem by bob barci

Each Saturday,
I walk into this place
telling myself to go easy.
Don't overdue, get out with a small bill.
I find my empty stool,
and eye the conveyor belt.
It steadily moves by with its $1.71 plates.
I pour myself some tea,
and prepare to choose.
Today, I start off with tempura.
I quickly grab for a tuna roll.
Oh no. I fear the worst.
My taste buds have been awakened.
I ask for a salmon roe hand roll.
That is rapidly followed by fried rice,
white fish, dumplings, and some noodles.
I've done it again.
Planned on only two or three plates,
and I've gone out of control.
Got to get out,
'cause I still want more.
'Quick, Sir, give me my bill
and drag me out of here! '
Once outside, I'm safe.
I've had my fix.
I'm contented, at least for now.
I'm good until dinner,
when I find another place
with the same style food
and start all over again.