Yellow hybrid Prius taxi cab.
Windows open airport to hotel Grand Prix.
Tall Nigerian driver shouting French.
Shooting his hands left and right pointing out
bars, restaurants, clubs, and galleries.
Places where an uncle or a cousin works.
He promises me special treatment, special prices.
“The common, the ordinary, these are not for you.”
he adds, as we run every red-light.
“Being a veterinarian in Montreal must have been fascinating. Are you bilingual?
How did you handle the language thing?
“I had only recently graduated, and while the pay wasn’t what I hoped for I did enjoy living in the city very much. Language never was a problem. I spoke French to cats and English to dogs”.
“But that’s silly to assume all cats speak French and all dogs speak English. That’s
like saying all dogs are male and all cats female”.
“Research as proven conclusively that both sexes are represented in cats and dogs.
Communication is different. Most cats do of course speak French, and the few who don’t fake it, not willing to admit they don’t. Dogs are pretty easy going. Your happy, they’re happy. If the owner was French speaking, I’d wink at the dog and switch over.
if I didn’t like the owner I’d make them translate.”
“Translate to the dog.”
“Yes, translate, and I’d use tons of long and complicated medical terms.”
“Well that’s ridiculous. What about little Spanish gatos, or great German hounds. What did you say to them?”
“ We didn’t, just referred then to another practice. Usually the pet acupuncture lady in Chinatown.”
The new museum of art building is so dramatic.
A four story wave of glass cresting the highest hill.
One hundred years of the best in contemporary art.
Every inch unique, no detail remains mundane.
Even the swirling form of asymmetrical urinals.
(Lefties best use a stall).
So was talking with the neighbor,
about cash being short.
Says at the Fire House they pass the boot.
Just stand out in traffic and people drop in cash!
Well, I tried it, but got to tell you,
Pass the flip-flop doesn’t work for shit.