We don’t fit in; none of us do
We’re like size six feet in a size twelve shoe
We’re like embryonic penguins in monkey wombs
We’re like Mayan corpses in Egyptian tombs
We’re like paperboys at the royal ball
We’re like swear words on a grandma’s shawl
We’re like onions in a chocolate cake
We’re like thick fur on a slippery snake
We’re like Happy Meal toys in caviar tins
We’re like banana peels in recycling bins
We’re like a Catholic vegan at a kosher deli
We’re like a navel ring on an old nun’s belly
We’re like a rape scene in a Disney flick
We’re like pudding made with arsenic
We’re like strippers at a Mormon wedding
We’re like jungle dwellers going sledding
We’re like a newborn baby in a hearse
We’re like a jock strap in a woman’s purse
We’re like pumpkins carved at Christmastime
We’re like silent parrots and blabbering mimes
We want to be sexy, but we can’t say our R’s
We want to be Ferraris, but we’re beater cars
We’ll just never fit in, though it may be our goal
We’re all square pegs and the world’s a round hole.
