A Taxi Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

A taxi

Calm, smooth and polite
Raised my hand with head bowed:
"Will you please and can I? "

He, taxi wearing a blue tooth
Selfish in yellow cab
Raised his hand as if say:
"What the hell, why should I? "

I hate the word hate, have always
But bully, bullying, I hated, regardless.

Smoothly, trickster I turned wheel
Slowly I pushed car in between
The bully taxi and ne front
I know that driving
Of Russia; of Iran
I killed him
His power
Was only
In his honk
and was loud.