The drapery’s gold and aloof.

The chandeliers glitter with foof.

You can’t help but think, as you order your drink,

Is this some sort of State Dinner spoof?

The servers are far from the rudest;

But their knowledge is not the astutest.

And no one who dines while they’re dressed to the nines

Wants a silence that’s practically Buddhist.

The menu’s now run a reverse;

Descriptions have gotten more terse.

Some dishes have died since the last restaurant guide,

But some new ones have been even worse.

The soups and salads are so-so,

And fishy black snapper’s a no-no;

It comes with thick gravy and something unsav’ry

Like thick, gummy Cheez-It risotto.

Gassing wines keeps them from staling;

Which we’d laud, if the wine list weren’t failing.

The mark-ups are fair, but there’s no juice that pairs

With a menu this hopelessly flailing.