She's saying farewell to turntables
And boxcars
And baby clothes
And bad jazz albums
Yes, there are bad jazz albums
She's packed up her paint-by-numbers paintings
And her green hilighters
And her Zack Morris poster
And she's planning on sleeping on the plane
Until she arrives in Tibet
Where she'll tell stories
About her old hemisphere
She'll speak of Tarrantino like he's an ex-boyfriend
And Bob Dylan like he's her dad
She'll have photos of her cat
Tattooed to her arms
But she'll reserve her back
For David Foster Wallace
And Emilio Estevez
She's going to find stars to dance with
But they'll be astronomical stars
And so, difficult to rhumba with
Even with new rhumba shoes
Jenny will arrive at the conclusion
That she speaks new languages
That haven't even been invented yet
And she'll wait in plush leather chairs
For someone to understand her
She'll read The Da Vinci Code
And Moby Dick
And get the two mixed up
Mixed cocktails at Gate Seven, Miss Jenny
The loudspeaker announces
And she's confused
Because didn't she already leave?
Time is a ball of wax
And a loose dress
And a birthday party
Jenny forgot to kiss San Francisco good-bye
Because she was crying too hard
Thinking about the pita from the Pita Pit
That she was never going to have again
Why did decisions have to show you their scars
As soon as you were done making peace with them?
Her belief system has been based on the poetry of Robert Frost
And reruns of Welcome Back, Kotter
She's not a dumb girl
But she won't lie
And say she doesn't like to let pop culture
Put its hands down her dress
When she's worked all day
And she doesn't have the strength
To watch PBS
She hears her flight again
And this time
The announcement
Bears a striking resemblance
To reality
So she boards her plane
And begs off her baggage
Saying they can send it to El Conquistador
Her old Latin restaurant
Where she waitressed
While watching Wheel of Fortune
And listening to ball games with the busboys
In the back
She's saying a farewell to the Western World
And the world she's leaving is too busy
To even notice that she's gone
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