It took me a week only to figure out
I am not made for this city
or any other like it, probably
the asphalt doesn’t knead into my feet like South dirt
ain’t no place for a blanket sitter.

Babies here live in grey
grey stairs always climbin’ up to grey windows
grey trains stop start no warning or grace
grey people yell cover your ears
ain’t no color to raise a baby in, grey. 

My legs always scraped
people stand too close here rub against you
rub bags rub bicycles 
rub buttons in a bad place
ain’t no need to give up your seat sir.

Never felt dirty hands like this
wash them ten times a day till they crack
hands dirty on subway seats
hands dirty on drunk man’s smell 
ain’t no Kentucky outside, cleaner than in. 

I am not made for this city
ain’t no place for me.