All night cross-town cabs
yellow black Manhattan
traveling at the speed of metered time.
Surrounded by hubbub and sound
honking their way to curb exits.
Driven by expatriated hacks
who mumble low in ear-plug cells
secret plots, dispatch mumbo-jumbo.
Contemplating greener streets
back alley triumphs
over bottleneck logjam
red light consternation…
the terror of lost tippage.
While the fitful city glows and glows
lit with clone taxis that zigzag
and flow, delivering their backseat fares
to all metropolitan destinations
shaken
yet amazingly
intact.
I love this poem. Thank you.