The World Doesn’t Want Me Anymore, and It Doesn’t Know It

I am the corner and the cab’s glow-up roof.
A tuba and air synth march down Stanton St.

Do a rhumba for an espresso foam by the green lights.
Notice how this dude in the yellow pants is embarrassing himself.

Trying their best to dougie to “My Favorite Things”
And a sexy woman poured-into jeans twirl-a-whirls.

When we see what we were in New York
And what we leave behind

Only stay human is great
Leave your weakness in a jar.
 

Copyright © 2013 by Sean Singer . Used with permission of the author. This poem appeared in Poem-a-Day on March 18, 2013. Browse the Poem-a-Day archive.