Taxi Drivers | Episode 11

The Be-Loving Imaginer

PODCAST #11, TAXI DRIVERS

by

Martin Bidney

Taxi Drivers – a topic made from an eye problem – and a way of making friends for the be-loving imaginer. Art is at the heart of startle. I like to consider each of my taxi driver interview lyrics a mini-drama with an outcome of startling power, occasioned by either a sudden change of perspective toward the end, or else simply by the surprise of having a moment of life turned into a wordsong to be remembered and resung.

In poem 2, “She growled, and loudly,” we start with a catfight but suddenly switch to places where people fight. Poem 5, “Pettable animals,” leads to a surprise biographical revelation.

Poem 8, “Look searching, mirrored,” varies the pattern: here I am the speaker, and my explanation of a viewpoint to the taxi driver builds up color and strength by adding more and more detail. In poem 9, “Curved cover, curled-up corners,” indirect discourse, reported statement, lets me unfold the story I’m hearing in the speaker’s own language. Poem 14, “You came back here from Nashville, Tennessee?,” performs the personality-unfolding at a slow, casual tempo. Poem 15, “Sure, more than thirty years. Played bass guitar,” was a ready-made anecdote so effective I wonder if it’s a near-poem that I’m hearing. Poem 18, Year and a half,” about leaving Florida, has the inevitability of a flower unfolding. Poem 19, “Tattoos referring to the tunes he wrote,” shows this again, more intensely.

Poem 20, “Give me this mantle of a grace-rich green,” turns me into a possible fictive taxi driver. I hadn’t guessed that merely looking out of the cab window would draw forth such a deep satisfaction. In poem 21, “Algerian-born, the taxi-driver” a similar surprise awakes from the depth of my gratitude in response to the driver’s earnest, hesitant question. Poem 25 is the monologue of a poet about a cactus. Poem 27, “The changing sets of heaven theater” lets a story unfold through reported statement blending with my own feelings.

Poem 29, “We’re going down – I’m from Manhattan, so you see,” gets all the sudden power from a child’s intelligence. Poem 30, “My car was flooded, so I called to see if maybe” was a drama written by my fellow passenger! In poem 32,
“I’ve gone across the country on my motorbike” lets the biker add drama with a sudden switch of perspective at the end. And poem 34, “I really liked my neighbor; she had passed away” does the same thing with equal surprise.