Wild crazy days in San Diego pounding a cab through drear streets. (Thanks to Ti Jean)
Redfaced smiley old cabbies patronizing rookies
in shiny pants and unstained hats Neon bright garage sharpedged machine clicks ritual procedures
then burst out in yellow purring taxi to dark dreaming alleys yet always cocoonlike radio
intermittanting voices incredibly friendly you know gods dispatch not men
Cruise up hills finger on mike eyes on sidewalk looking for lucky first fare
who is an old limping woman on freeway overpass bridge with wilted succulent
in hand cab stops she climbs over guardrail inclimbs
straight to Goodwill hurry late to meet someone
Radio dronelike puts out stream of numbers catch one call in get magic number and
street slam cab through gears to get there before first fare fades
slide up hop out call CAB! open door hop in write go repeat repeat
all different prowl growl park dark go slow stop hop
damn good cabbie yeah
Ron