Step off the bus,
I’m in the wrong place.
Where am I now?
Try to ask,
It’s too crowded.
Run down a long flight of stairs.
Check the screens,
Read the signs,
Check the newsstand.
Newsstand lady might help.
She doesn't help.
I’ll go ask a guard.
I’m back on my way up the stairs.
Run through a door.
I’m under black sky.
Towering scrapers look down on me.
I’m back beneath concrete again.
See rows of benches,
Streams of fast people,
In a room of roaring chatter.
There’s a guard.
I've got some directions.
Back out into the night once more.
Step on cracked sidewalk,
Under overhead construction,
And past a man on the ground selling tickets.
Squish through a door,
Run back downstairs,
And I pay a small fee for the train.
Rush down more steps,
Enter huge space,
A cold subterranean stop.
I’m waiting in a line.
Look down the tunnel.
Darkness is starting to split.
People are running.
Loud doors are opening.
I’m finally leaving this place.