Thursday, August 25, 2011


A yellow car or truck or van
always floods the city streets
as people crowd the sidewalks
waiting for a ride—it’s cheaper
than driving yourself. It saves gas

and it’s one of the few places
where you can actually find
someone who wishes to talk.

Not just pretend. Like
‘how’s the weather?’ and
‘what do you do?’ and ‘cool.’
or ‘nice’ or ‘yeah, I have a friend
with that name.’ but real, honest

conversation. And then
the ride is over. You pay
your driver and leave.
You power on
to your destination
as your former driver
counts the cash. Then
he, too, departs and
everything continues on,
seemingly unnoticed—the
cab fading among the others—
and if you had a camera and
panned out, you’d see a sea
of yellow, almost mimetic
of blood.

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