Sunday, July 10, 2011

Ode to a Ghanaian Taxi Driver

This is an original poem that was first written on my blackberry after another bad experience with a Ghanaian Taxi Driver. It is a bit of a rant. Enjoy

Ghanaian taxi driver oh how I loathe thee with your crooked ways and sliding rates
I wish I did not need your evil services to go to town today
You pull up in your raggedy car
I wonder if it was retrieved from the bottom of Lake Michigan and sold to you
Dented, rickety, dilapidated, unsafe
Still, your taxi is one of the best on the road
The bald tires, immobile windows and cut seat belts make it a bit typical
You say it will cost 3 cedi (dollars) to take me to town
I say "No thanks!"
I walk away
You can't overcharge me Ghanaian Taxi Driver
"Okay, 2 cedi" he calls
I hop in
Can't take advantage of me Mr. Ghanaian Taxi Man
A beautiful Ghanaian woman who sells oranges in the market hops in as well
You say it will cost 20 peswas (cent) to take her to town
Why, oh, why does the Ghanaian woman with the fruits pay only 20 peswas?
You requested 2 cedi from me?
I thought my black skin would make me your sister and you would care for me?
Taxi driver why are you robbing me?
Does my American accent make be an Obruni? (word used to describe whites. Means trickster)
Is your goal to get me first?
No tip for you Rip Off Ghanaian Taxi Driver
I notice your shirt with the rips and your worn shoes
I wonder about your children's clothes and shoes
The lady with the oranges has shoes like yours
Maybe that is why you charge her peswas and me cedis
My shoes told you I could afford more
Still, I should kick your ass Ghanaian taxi driver
I hate the way you drive
Should I call it driving?
My heart skips a beat every time you speed for no reason
I am not in a hurry
You hit the goats with your raggedy car
You would not hit the goats if you would drive on the road
Oh, Ghanaian driver why won't you just drive on the road?
As you speed over the speed bumps and around pot holes my life flashes before my eyes
I question why I didn't get out of the cab the last time you breaked suddenly
My neck just jerked you jerk
I then remember all the cab drivers drive like you
I would hate you and kick your ass
I should call you a dumb ass slimy mother fucker while I slash your tires
and pour sugar in your tank
Would you know what mother fucker means?
Would you know that I was insulting you with my American potty mouth?
Should I ask you how to say mother fucker in Fante so I can call you one?
"Sir"
I call
To ask you to slow down and how to curse you out
All you do is give me blank stares with your yellow eyes
Those yellow eyes make you look crooked and sly
I know that the yellow is a result of your childhood malnutrition
Your family fed you nightly
Lots of starch
not enough meat and veggies
Malnutrition
Is that what made you drive this way?
"Sir"
"Sir"
"SIR!"
"STOP!"
I push my way out of the taxi
I grudgingly hand you 2 cedi
I am pissed you over charge me
For this shitty ride, in this shitty car, with your shitty attitude
"Sir, wait"
I hand him 20 peswas
Why a tip?
A small insurance that his children don't become
Crazy-driving-yellow-eyed-unsafe-car-taxi-drivers
Plus,
This is the best taxi ride I have had all week


1 comment:

  1. This poem is hilarious… Def Poetry Jam material!
    *snapping fingers*

    ReplyDelete