These church-goers
Are flooding this coffee shop
With their ties and dresses
And their hugs and smiles
They seem happy
But it’s Sunday
And I’ve seen this act too many times
Happy on Sunday
But miserable Monday-Saturday
The fake smiles
Have their faces as dressed up
As the rest of their body
I can imagine
The ladies in their dresses
With their arms extended out to the heavens
As the christian band
Plays another tune
A love song
To the man in the sky
Who lets children suffer
But the ladies close their eyes
And sing to the heavens
I don’t know why
But both the religious
And the atheist
Make me uncomfortable
Religion can help some people
But it’s poison for others
Atheism doesn’t see any good
In the smiles and ties of these people
Who just keep coming
One after the other
Into this coffee shop
I think I’ll read one page from Aristotle
And get the hell out of here
But as I type these words
The pastor sits down at the table right next to me
And his family joins him
He sees my shirt
Which is from Weed, California
And all he sees is the word
‘WEED’
I’m sure my eyes say the same thing
He whispers something in his wife's ear
And they all get up
And move to a different table
I’m slightly offended
But I keep noticing the glances of one of these dress-wearing ladies
And this one
Is gorgeous
I feel like forbidden fruit
And her eyes
Betray her dress
And the crowd she is with
And this makes it
So much hotter
Then it should be
Okay Aristotle
What do you have for me?
I have to get the hell out of here
Before this lady converts me
Or before she takes a bite out of me.
-C.H.