When I wrote a check for fifty dollars,
that’s all I have I said to the taxi driver
who locked the doors of his black Mercedes.
He drove like a maniac down a dirt road.
Shall I drive, I asked. Don’t you trust me.
I’m not going to kill you, he yelled like
he was doing me a favour. This is where
you hang up faith, watch it somersault into air.
He placed a hand on my thigh. You don’t want
to touch me, I may have some awful disease.
His fist hit the steering wheel. Crazy bitch,
shut up. Give me all the money you have.
I swallowed my curses he unlocked the door,
I got out fast, fear he’d run me down. I walked
for what seemed miles. A car passed by
and stopped. You ok? I need a cab, I said.
Not around here. Get in, I’ll drop you. I talked
music, he said he was off to steal wheels.
He turned up the music to electro beats. My feet
tapped courage, I prayed all the way to neon lights.
Once home I picked up a pair of scissors, cut off
my hair, it fell like a curtain at the end of the show.