Naked Cafe

I am 72 sitting
In the Naked Cafe
Sipping hot tea with
Milk and reading about
Catherine the Great,
The motto on the lower
Back of each attractive
Waitress’ t-shirt is Get Naked
Which seems to be the
Informal mantra of
Southern California.
Strange how little human
Beings vary in their basic
Interests and topics of talk,
A patio full of young and old
Men and women talking
Rather than listening and
Almost always about one
Subject, themselves.
I close my eyes and just
Listen to all the sounds
And scents like the killer
Beast I am though I am
Growing fond of arugula and
Spinach salads with balsamic
After far too many hamburgers,
I hear the kitchen staff clattering
Away and the waitresses claiming
Tips and refills while the clientele
Tell their stories sing their songs,
I open my eyes to spot the few
Who are listening like me and
We exchange glances with
A faint smile of recognition
Peering over our glasses,
May God protect you if one
Of us turns bad as we are no
Mindless force of hate and
Prejudice but coldly objectively
Calculating individuals restrained
Not by morals but by manners
To avoid being impolite or making
A mess of other’s lives while we
Mostly read or create art to pass
The time allotted satisfied that
To do good surpasses
Doing bad and
Requires so
Many
Fewer lies.
I who eschew morals
Have turned out to
Find myself ruled
By the early
Precepts
Taught
Me,
The teachings
Of Jesus of Nazareth
To love and forgive
One another and
Operating on
Faith alone.
To be a
Southern gentlemen first
And a southern Californian second.