Forbidden Fruit

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.