Just A Taxi Driver

I’m holding a length of PVC pipe

Absently in my hand

I’m near crying as I have been

On the constant for a few months

I’m waiting for a clerk of some kind

To emerge with windows

I’m thinking of protagonists

Antagonists

Villains and perhaps

Denouement

She turns to me and says

“Are you my taxi driver?”

I turn my head and I look at her

With the tears in my eyes

And say, politely

“No.”