Poem: The Taoist in Transit
An automated woman’s voice
Affirms: “Next stop: Fern Avenue”
*
The driver coughs microphone static
“The next stop is not Fern Avenue”
*
The streetcar stop announced
Is not the streetcar stop
*
The name of the stop
Is no longer the stop’s name
*
This unnamed route
Manifests a map of the city
Ten thousand tracks in its streets
*
Desire for the 506 Queen
Reveals the mother of all street signs
*
Thus, constantly not wanting
One observes people searching
*
Constantly anticipating discomfort
“Right to the back of the car”
*
One observes the red and white shape
Appearing amidst traffic
*
Preventing cars from passing
Cyclists speeding perpendicular
*
People and streetcar emerge
A rude jumble of elbows and backpacks
“Give up your seat to those in need”
*
One body filled with distances
Travelling in one direction
*
A mystery: the doors open
A wonder of fresh air
