The pedestrian lobbed
A thick gob of spit at the taxi
We were on 3rd, up a bit, almost at 34th
“Fucking dickhead,” the walker yelled
The taxi driver didn’t flinch
Twenty six years driving
A cab around New York City,
His career move from Russia,
Some guy in a tee-shirt screaming
Profanities at him in the middle
Of the street just as he was
Heading towards JFK
About to get some country air….so….
Behind the wheel the Russian perked up
Seeing that cute white Nissan sportscar
Even accelerated a bit, switching lanes
To follow a little closer maybe
Already forgetting about the traffic ticket
He got on Hudson after I climbed in
Tardy seat belt maneuver and the cops
Watching, nodding at me “Ma’am”
As they approached the taxi
Pulled over on top of a bunch of white lines,
Pretty bracelet around the curb,
Requesting a card to charge and the
Happy Dragon Early Intervention Center
Direct off the Horace Harding Expressway
Promising easy access for families
The taxi and the Russian
In moderate traffic rattling
Along the highway
Past the miracle churches and
Wooden houses with barred windows
An hombre in a sombrero on the steps
While Grandpa’s Bus Company claimed
It had already checked for sleeping children,
The sign suckered onto the dirty window.