Analysis of The Oxford Street

"The faces of hundreds of strangers
passing me,
like a moment in time
eating nachos with chorizo, black beans, and pink pickled onion
I felt horchata was tasteless.
I sit in a cafe on Oxford Street,
melted butter in the air.

Under the table, swaying slowly with music, my legs crossed
impatiently, I look around, waiting for
some spices to kick in
to lift me.
So cold and glittering
I boarded a bus back home to Old Street.
Next day, again, I am a tourist."