Yesterday I saw a voodoo man
performing a hex on a sushi stand
There's always a woman tells me good morning,
on the stairs. When it's afternoon.
Bought a The New Yorker at a Barnes Ignobles
and every time I look at their magazine selection "I say Blugh."
(The cashiers can sense it too
Weird to be a writer away from your home, you know?)
The man on the street knows what you want
if you want a music magazine, Rolling Stone or Mojo?
He's got Snapple Lemonade and Payday candy bars
My eyes are red and a sniper has me in his sights.
Whatever you say is wrong, whatever I say is right.
Right? Wrong it's a bit of nomenclature. Write!