The Diary of a Taxi Driver MAG

By P.J. R., Doylestown, PA

Sweet and melodic jazz,
the soundtrack of my life
drowns every honk, siren and scream
that fills this city.
Steam rises from sewers
like escaped convicts
and pours onto the sidewalks.
Drunken vagabonds lay on steps
and lonely men drink coffee at 2 a.m.
I do not stop - the light glows green.
Lost innocence works her streets -
a child slowly walks by
twelve, maybe thirteen
shrouded in a red skirt and matching hat.
Time freezes as our eyes connect;
she haunts me.
How can I save her?
I cannot rain
and flood the pavement,
purge these sins.
I spread them,
from apartments to alleys,
smearing dirt across this filthy city.
I want to lock my doors
and shift into reverse.

Neon lights blend together,
refract off beads of water
that stumble across my windshield.
I move in slow motion, suffocated by yellow
and the smoke that lingers in the air,
puff after puff,
as the saxophone plays on.





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i love this so much!


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