I went to Zoe’s Cafe for Help


to escape the isles of junk food at the supermarket
and the processed and chemical food
in my cupboard.

I went to Zoe’s Café for help
to be treated as a friend, neighbor,
and community member,
not a commodity

now my stomach begs
to be distracted from the pain

by sex with another stranger,
another swig of mad dog,
another rerun of Friends,
another cigarette teasing the forearm
with a searing kiss.

I went to Zoe’s Café for help
and was given a smile
along with buttered bread,
oily hash browns,
processed cheese,
and a dull ache in my belly.

I went to Zoe’s Café for help
like a young boy who seeks the Lord
but instead gets acquainted
with a horny priest.

The great cathedrals and parishes
have begun to be cleansed of devils
in priests’ garments.

Cafes are temples
to Mother Earth’s edible abundance.
It is time
to cleanse the cafes
of processed and chemically
altered food
disguised in omelet garments.

It is time to help Zoe’s Café.

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