Har.

That's the Official New York Passport
http://www.overheardinnewyork.com/archives/004549.html

Suit: Goddamn piece of fucking shit.
Old lady: Geez.
Suit: What's your fucking problem?
Old lady: The dumbing down of our language; everyone is so crude. Suit: Where are you from, the Little House on the Prairie?
Old lady: I'm from New York, you fucking asshole.

--47th & 5th

Song of Myself, Stanza 4

4

Trippers and askers surround me,
People I meet, the effect upon me of my early life or the ward
and city I live in, or the nation,
The latest dates, discoveries, inventions, societies, authors
old and new,
My dinner, dress, associates, looks, compliments, dues,
The real or fancied indifference of some man or woman I
love,
The sickness of one of my folks or of myself, or ill-doing or
loss or lack of money, or depressions or exaltations,
Battles, the horrors of fratricidal war, the fever of doubtful
news, the fitful events;
These come to me days and nights and go from me again,
But they are not the Me myself.
Apart from the pulling and hauling stands what I am,
Stands amused, complacent, compassionating, idle,
unitary,
Looks down, is erect, or bends an arm on an impalpable
certain rest,
Looking with side-curved head curious what will come next,
Both in and out of the game and watching and wondering
at it.

Backward I see in my own days where I sweated through fog
with linguists and contenders,
I have no mockings or arguments, I witness and wait.