Taxi Ride

‘Hop on.’ says The Fez
‘There’s no stairs.’ Sleepy eyed dry mouth.
‘Tug the tassel and swing.’
I tugged the tassel and swung and Whoosh!
Stars distant below,
velvet and silk far behind
ochre stretches indigo
on the jasmine zephyr.
Ancient tombs **** past,
dry walled cities hidden in dust.

Will I see my dinner?

The sun hisses, the moon stretches
spilling onto the onyx sea.
‘Where to?’ Fez says
‘It’s your ride’ I shrug.
‘Maybe an ex, or your boss.’
‘Nah, that would be a waste.’
‘How about the Jungle or The World’s Roof?’
Restless I turn and say
‘Just home will do’