Cold rain falls in the river, flows down to the sea, gets into the skyline, circles endlessly. Same old rain on the wind, same old pain in my soul.

Friday, October 8, 2010

Cafe


I don't care for restaurants
They're all shoney
And crackerbarrel

Buffets and chemical cones Check Spelling

The waitresses have clean
Green skirts, matching aprons
And name tags

Tightwad teachers meet here
To tip poorly
And compliment each other
For doing their job

All the pie crusts are stamped
Sysco, and a regional dick
Strikes fear, twice a month

Some restaurants are lovely
And the pies from Deflor's bakery.
Teachers don't go here
But neither do i
As i always feel like I entered
A church
with too much God
And not enough sin

But a cafe, yes,
Where the cook
Bellers and belly laughs
At the
Clumsy girl
Who couldn't get into Shoney's
Cuz of that damn tattoo

She's wearin jeans
As full of holes as
Her manners

She ain't going to State
In the fall
Like the girls at crackerbarrel and
Her apron is filthy
And her hair
Is in your chili

There's a counter
With some stools
Where the plumber and
Electrician perch
Cuz the dice are
Just below the counter

You have to bang the
Salt shaker, and in the corner
Is a juke box that never heard
Of eminem

Teachers won't come here
Cuz they failed
The cook and waitress

And there's worse things
Than hair in your chili

But here, you can laugh out loud
And tip because you want to
Cuz she's your friend
And you take care of your friends

Here, dreams are small
But dreams just
The same
The til stays open to round -offs
And Sadie bakes the pies fresh
Every night
~rick