A poem for O. Henry (1989)

I'm in this crazy city and there's no place to go,

Backed up against the bar, just another John Doe.

For it's hot on the streets and it's cold in the stores

And the pretty girls in high heels are nothing but whores.

Yeah, they're nothing but whores and it's hot on the streets,

Hot as my heart before Lolita leaps

Across my field of vision as graceful as a bird

Into a cab and all I overheard

Was 'Bloomingdales' and away she leapt.