I caught the bus in Chinatown
And slept the whole way up by 95
The driver, cut and weaved so crazy, just his luck kept him alive
and I guess I believed his rhythm on that morning after New
Year‘s Eve
And I remember Shanghai
How I wasn‘t sure just what was safe to eat
The chickens pecked and wandered at the barefoot ankles of the
children hawking figurines of workers smiling
What‘s the Chinese word for cheese?
Watched a sidewalk butcher
His instinctive understanding made the carcass snap and clarify
beneath his nimble hands that held the knife so long, so many
times, the handles‘ changed to ships just like his fingers and his palms
And I, I am a passenger tonight
I watch the world, from inside
It‘s 2AM in Tokyo
And still too soon to call back to the people who will soon begin
the day I polished off and I will walk a mile amidst the neon lights that advertise
I don‘t know just what they sell
I tell the taxi driver
To the park, a higher tone
And his gloves are pristine white just like the girls I used to know
would wear to dance their first cotillion
Every single one of them named Jennifer
I clutched at the same Christopher
I picked up at some country abbey long ago when I believed he‘d
keep me safe and make me happy but it seems the luck he brings is not the common currency of penny in Japan
And I, I am a passenger tonight
I watch the world, from inside.