It never amazes when people
Come to the cafe in spread
Like their living room came along
And camped out in the booths
Five chairs, one booth, 3.5 people
With a little infant newborn
I, myself, have the same syndrome
However minimal, I could write at home
But I never bring in the stench of home
Rejecting service as if the kitchen is theirs
Or holing up in the corner alone
We all need a change of pace
A change in the same scenery
Regardless, these cafes should be sacred
An oasis in the dreary day
Not another room to air out laundry
As if payment gives us these rights.

Published by Bryn Montgomery