I can’t believe I am lost
After I fell down the rabbit hole,
Got off the I-90 and was
surrounded by the disorientating lights of the city.
Passing by the stockbrokers
Dressed in their finest suits looking like fat caterpillars
They blow cigar smoke in my face,
“Go back to where you came from”
They yell, “You don’t belong here!”
At the tea party on Fifth Avenue,
The girls in their finest dresses sit down for brunch,
Spilling their mimosas after they’ve had too much.
“There’s no room!” they yell as I try to sit down,
“My dear,” a woman slurs,
wearing a large hat in green,
with ribbons and tulle covering her eyes
“You must buy this hat, you can’t possibly fit in here without one.”
I follow a pretentious queen to the golf range,
Her red and black tennis skirt swaying as she puts,
Her caddie running after her like he’s nuts
“And where are you from? It can’t be here certainly,” she says
“You can’t play golf? You must be off your head!”
On the streets of Times Square
I grab a slice of cheesecake
And start to feel so small.
In a place packed with characters,
I can never be one with them all.