Sunday, January 25, 2009
Big Yellow Taxi
3 a.m.! the streets are empty, the taxi races by, the driver adjusts the rearview mirror, the music slowly fades away, its cold outside, roll up the windows, no not all the way up, just a little bit, the seat cover is torn, a drop trickles down on it, then another, and another, a stray noise in the background, the dog barks, the amber light flashes, the ruffled hair, a tinge of lipstick, tired feet, the half-smile, the deafening silence…
High, but high enough?
Mad, but mad enough?
Giving yourself away, but giving enough?