Cabaletta: Poems Of A New York City Taxi Driver by Davidson Garrett

As the Tennessee Williams of the taxicab, Davidson Garrett takes us on a ride through his beloved New York City. The poems in this beautiful collection bring to life such New York icons as Jackie O and Walt Whitman, but Garrett also pauses to witness the sad bones of the early days following 9/11, as well as the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy. A whole history here as you sit back in your comfortable seat and watch the scenery. A really wonderful read.

—Francine Witte, author of Only, Not Only, Café Crazy and The Theory of Flesh

What better way to learn about a city than through its poetry? And who better qualified to write the poetry of New York City than a lifelong poet employed for four decades as a taxi driver? “I know I’m only / a little speck in this vast plot of commerce, but a speck that shines / its own light,” writes Davidson Garrett, and that light illuminates a tremendous amount: encounters with famous riders, inside views of national tragedy (“I will be forever / haunted,” observes the poet in one of the collection’s two poems dedicated to his experience on 9/11), fleeting glimpses of people the poet wishes to know better but cannot—be it Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis or a fish food salesman from Secaucus—and the stoicism and humility of someone often unseen, who in his turn sees so much. Replete with Garrett’s lifelong passion for the arts—especially opera—Cabaletta effortlessly testifies to the quiet grandeur of his occupation while paying memorable tribute to one of the world’s great cities.

—Anton Yakovlev, author of Chronos Dines Alone, “Winner of the James Tate Poetry Prize”

Whether he’s driving Martha Graham, Mitt Romney, a traveling salesman of fish food flakes, or a fare who angrily doesn’t want any of his small talk, Davidson Garrett chronicles a cab driver’s life in vivid, often gritty details. He transports us through 12-hour shifts from desolate early morning through the jammed streets of the “yellow caterpillar” in rush hours. He was parked awaiting a fare beneath the North Tower when it was rammed by a jetliner on 9/11, raining debris onto his cab from the immense explosion above him. It is often a hard life, with solitary time for meditation and regrets. A cabaletta is an aria, and Garrett sings it beautifully in his canary yellow cab, working the streets he knows so intimately.

—William Considine, author of The Furies