I caught the bus in Chinatown

And slept the whole way up I-95

The driver, cut and weaved so crazy, just his luck kept him alive and I guess I believe 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 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 hand that held the knife so long, so many times, the handles' changed to shapes 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 but I don't know just what they sell



I tell the taxi driver

To the park, a higher tone

And his gloves so 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 St. 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 a penny in Japan



And I, I am a passenger tonight

I watch the world, from inside