we need to talk

i can't get out
of this cab. the
doors are locked
tight and the meter
is rolling red,
flickering like
christmas lights
in rockefeller
center. it smells
like three day old
pastrami back here.
the driver is behind
the glass and won't
talk to me. he just
keeps driving,
going nowhere in a
circle, uptown,
downtown, to battery
park then up
the FDR around to
harlem, then back
down the hudson.
i'm dizzy with
manhattan, trapped
in this yellow taxi
that won't stop. i
bang on the window,
but he doesn't budge.
he raises his middle
finger and presses
it against the glass.
i don't understand
why my son is so angry
with me and won't
pull over to let me
out. we really need
to have a talk.