Taxi Driver
By Ian
- 577 reads
T is for
Taxi Driver
-------------
The bone weary driver blows smoke rings
Which crash against the rear view mirror
The rain spatters on the taxi roof
Making an oddly musical beat
Crackling voices on the radio
Ask for fares to outlying suburbia
A line of cabs rear up behind him
A reminder of his opposition
The various aromas of late night meals
Pervade the smoky car
Chinese, Indian, Italian, fish suppers
He has a cosmopolitan clientele,
Through the rain speckled windscreen
He makes out two fat, frumpy, forlorn figures
Struggling with palm slicing shopping bags
The door opens and
Voices drone weary from shopping
And back breaking domesticity
The contract complete the fag is tossed away
And the clash clash of the engine coughs into life
As the drver wends his weary way:
- Log in to post comments