Cafe

Season after season
In Southern California
I enter the cafe as it opens.
Early morning regulars filter in
For tea or coffee ordering exotic
Breakfasts with items beyond the
Ken of a Texas boy far from his
Biscuits and bacon campfire,
Things like granola with
Slices of avocado or
Upside down pan
Cakes with some
Pineapple or
Even a link
Of free
Range
Chicken
Sausage for
A big adventure.
I asked for a biscuit
And they tell me no one
Has those anymore.
My inquiry for pork
Sausage gravy
Shocks them
So bad they
Take a step
Back as I
Shake
My
Head
At their
Religion
Of health
Consciousness.
What good is a few
Extra years of granola
Whole wheat flatbread
And mango chutney stuff
If you must give up God’s
Chosen morning biscuit
And bacon by a camp
Fire with a hot cup of
Caffeine smelling a
Whisp of smoke
In the wind
As the sun
Breaks
The ridgeline.
So I try an English
Muffin with what I hope
Is pork bacon, but only once.
As a cup of tea is all I can
Salvage of Texas here in
Surf city Encinitas far
From the Big Bend
Country and old
Guadalupe
Peak to
The
North
Where on
The wind I catch
A hint of sausage gravy.