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The rearview windshield wipers were acting erratic, they dragged; dragging, dragged, and
draggethed
Until the rain stopped, and the rain drops, ricocheted off, making the radio station waves play soft
While the rain— — —
Unabashedly blasted
The rain grew more and more manic & rapid, until the vision diluted, dripping with dewness
The windows were muted, the misconstrument, shattered the glasses
The rain daggered in patterns
Splattering backwards
It laggard & lacquered
Although it hadn't mattered
The rear view wind shield wiper was enamored and flattered
*
Flashes of lightning & thunder, and rain striking the bumper, like an excitable muffler’s mechanics reaction!
Somebody's hand is waving, at a drab location, a passenger waiting—
standing with baggage
The Cabbie is acting: as if, the passenger’s hands aren't actively apparent, as if the man’s hands were just, fanning Manhattan
The passengers are waving for the cab in an elaborate fashion
The watches on there wrists, washed & rinsed, disbandment, disbanded, Nano's elapsing
The Black Hands have umbrellas, as the ugly weather shuns their endeavors
Dampening action
The rearview windshield wiper got the tail end
Of the rain fall
And the windshield wipers waned and stalled
And the breaks of the car were delayed by the storm
The traction was lacking
The pitter patterning became disenchanting, the intermittent, continuous tapping, hitting the black tint
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The rearview windshield wiper swished on the backend and this pattern relaxed him
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The driver looked out of his window, at the Negro, at the disadvantaged address
They were dripping, so, he swiftly drove past them, whipping so fast that he splashed them — with malice
The rain was like lashes, to the back of the wagon, the wrath & the scratches
The Jazz Band continued waving, brandishing classic, water proof watches on their wrist
As they withstanded harassment
The Jazz Band grabbed the back end of the taxi cab, demanding access
And the man automatically latched it
The Rain had made it all seem rather romantic
The city streets, looked pretty clean, for once, for a trashy encampment
Rain washed away the vandalism & all the yellowing Taxis
ambered and vanished
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Wreaking absolute havoc, each rain drop, precipitated on the gray block,
anticlimactic
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The Taxi was acting stagnant, as the rain fell fast and sporadic
The rearview windshield wiper
Got too damp & matted to distract the rain—from its blanching and blatting
The Jazz Band waved their hands, wearing their embarrassment, like patent and satin
They were transparent, the overcast dramatically blanded there blackness
The Taxi Cabs Window Pane reflected passing sadness
As the Taxi driver made eye contact with the flashy Jazzmen through saturated caplets
The Jazz Band jammed on their sax — the indiscriminate blues
The Saxophone blasted the riveting tunes, like sirens in puddles, ambulances in action
The rain calloused the Jazz Bands ambient palate and the jazz band became abandoned with static
The Taxi Drivers passengers scattered— while The Jazz Band scatted
The cabbie fastened and strapped in
Peering through his rearview at the Band belting the last of their encapsulant ballad
The Jazz Band tapped their feet
Enhanced by the beat
The Taxi turned on the meter and emphatically asked the Black Band —
“What’s happening, Jackson?”
Rain managed to gash him before he could bring the bags with their sax in
How to hail a cab
Rain Dancing In Traffic