People Poems

	Taxi Driver He traps you in his mirror As if spying for stories Some absent part of himself There is a glass wall between you Through which his hard eyes Chase the traffic with you He is effervescing with tales Hoarded in his brain like used stamps Opened at a random page He keeps each yarn warm and closed As if protecting kittens in his palms Which mewl and scratch for attention He would make the perfect secret agent Unassumed and quintessentially The opposite of Cambridge chic When you've hopped from his cab It hits you. You've told him your life story And you know nothing of him © David Incoll 2001
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