heart monitor

the old man driver, he coughed up blood onto his shirt sleeve. i watched him in the review mirror. just spit it up from his lungs onto his forearm as he swerved a little into the left lane, rolled up his sleeve and steered back in between the lines. coughed up christmas confetti, green mucous strings and flecks of blood on his button-down shirt.

but it's spring. when the asthmatics push their fingers in between their ribs and force their weighted lungs to expand. when pollen, winged semen, travels through your nasal passage and coats your trachea forcing it to contract, forcing your voice to dig its claws into your throat to crawl to open air.

he drove with the windows down, and the wind ran through his hair, pushed the dandruff from his scalp onto the back seat. i leaned out the open window. my nose dried up quick, but i kept my lips pursed to stop my tongue from going dry. because i hate that feeling. a sandpaper tongue grating against the roof of my mouth like when i'm so goddamn afraid to speak.

"what building, ma'am?" the cabbie spoke in a raspy, spring-time voice.
".....oh. building 11, please....."
"that's the one on the right?"
"um.... maybe.... i really don't know...."
"well right sounds good to me."

*******

She was snaggle-toothed; her cheeks folded below her eyes and pulled her bottom lip towards her chin, exposing a row of crooked teeth. But when I opened the door, an angel asked me, "So sweety, where do you want to go?" She sang to me, that round-faced wench. She pushed her matted hair from her shoulder blades and sang to me as I opened the car door.

I first saw her across the street, turning into my lane with one fat hand choking the wheel and the other pressing a phone to her ear. I was waiting at the corner, with my back to a storefront, when I saw her turn. I was waiting by a lamp post, watching the students walk by the storefront, admiring their tight skin, curled up noses and highlights. I was waiting for a man, or anyone at all, to ask my name or why I was kicking at the pavement as I watched students pass. To invite me to his arm, or to his car; to call me from the lamplight to his bed.

But before any man could call me, she turned into my lane and parked her cab. And I stopped my daydreaming and my wanting and opened the car door.