Chasing after my most recent Tinder date
Shouting: “Hey, you left your sweater, baby! Wait!”
She runs faster; I speed up—is this a race?
Tap her shoulder and she turns; I see her face
What this?! A gumdrop nose?! An oven tan?!
She's transformed! She is the Gingerbread Man!
“You can’t catch me!” she cackles, and I gasp
She kicks me, takes the sweater in her grasp
Still in shock, I watch her run for two more blocks
Running after her are bankers, maids, a fox…
Pretty soon half of New York is on the chase
They're obsessed; they want to eat her cookie face
They're obsessed; they want to eat her cookie face
“You can’t catch me!” she exclaims, “It’s all in vain!”
Then the gray Manhattan sky begins to rain
She turns soggy and she stumbles; she is weak
Her cookie flesh is melting-- "Help!" she shrieks
The mob attacks her; fox and maids are crushed
The bankers stuff their mouths with bready mush
The world is sick with mindless greed, I fear.
The world is sick with mindless greed, I fear.
I take the sweater as a souvenir.
