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Taxi

Hinemoana Baker


The taxi sped away
from the cat, the thrash

metal guitarist from Tokyo
and I cried into the black

fur of it
the breathing stopped.

          *

At each station the train
stops, but the eyes

keep moving
inside themselves

the tracks seem to widen
and narrow like jaws working

the platform floats up
and down like a dock

the man in front shouts
a sneeze into the carriage air

 


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© Copyright 2006 Hinemoana Baker & Trout.