Urban Woman Blues

(Don’t Wanna Be Stuck in the Suburbs Forever)

Some years ago I was dating a charming gentleman who sealed his fate with me by insisting he could only live in the suburbs and assuming I would want to do the same. He had a beautiful house and had already planned that I would love it too. The relationship didn’t last long but I wrote this bit of doggerel at the time. It’s either a poem or a song, if someone will just compose some music to go with it.

Don’t carry me off to the suburbs.
I’m an urban woman now.
City limits are my boundaries.
I’m an urban woman now.

Shopping malls give me agoraphobia.
Trees belong in the park and animals in the zoo.
I want my grass measured by the square inch.
I’m an urban woman now.

I gave up flea markets, farmstands, freeways forever.
I traded them for skyscrapers, coffeehouses, used bookstores,
Taxis and sidewalks and theatres in old storefronts.
I’m an urban woman now.

I buy my clothes on the top floor of an old mansion
Surrounded by hundreds of expressionistic paintings
By an émigré Hungarian painter.
I’m an urban woman now.

Don‘t drag me to the suburbs, please.
Don’t tempt me with discount centers, flea markets and flower gardens.
Don’t lead me astray on the freeway of love.
I’m an urban woman now.

I might lose my way in the geometry of strip malls and parking lots
And never again find my way back to grit, crime and all night joints.
I don’t want to be stuck in the suburbs forever.
I’m an urban woman now.

Don‘t carry me off to the suburbs
I’m an urban woman now.
City limits are my boundaries
I’m an urban woman now.