photo by David Haas
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from TAXI NIGHT
I’m so dumb!
Like, why the fuck
am I drinking?
So I woke up today and I’m, like,
I hope I don’t get a lot of texts
and he’s, like, ‘O would you like
to get dinner tonight?’
And I’m, like, I don’t know and stuff.
I’ll shoot you a draft
after school
because I don’t know
what time I’ll be free
tomorrow.
And he’s, like, ‘Ok. So. Are you free
tonight?’
I didn’t answer.
He’s, like, ‘Are you having dinner tonight?’
Question mark.
I didn’t answer.
Texts me again
an hour later.
I didn’t answer.
So yeah, like,
it was just crazy.
Um, so, like, yeah.
He, like, texts me,
‘If this is too much
just let me know I’ll stop.’
Dude, I haven’t even answered
your first question yet.
And then—
I’m so sorry.
I’m just not looking for anything
new right now.
(I was really
hooking up
hard core
with someone
two months
this summer
but I can’t
tell him this.)
He’s, like, ‘O really?
Because it seems I heard
from other people
last night
you are looking
for something serious.’
I was, like, fuck I was so drunk
I told him I was looking for something
serious
but not with him!
Today I say I’m not looking
for anything serious.
So like OOOPS!
He was, like, ‘What happened?’
He came all the way
from Maryland.
He just kept on
texting me, like, non-stop.
And I was, like,
you are fucking annoying.
And I was, like,
what the fuck.
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Cliff Fyman was born 3 March 1954 in old St. Vincent’s hospital. He was actually very nearly born in a taxi cab. He drove cab at night in New York City from 2012 to 2017. His first book of poems, Taxi Night, was published in 2021 by Long News Books.
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Taxi by Laura Barbosa, 2010
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