The Taxi by Amy Lowell

“The Taxi” is a poem by the American poet Amy Lowell. First published in 1914, it is a vivid and intense depiction of a nighttime taxi ride through a city.

The poem begins with the speaker hailing a taxi on a busy street, and the subsequent journey through the city becomes the focus of the poem. Lowell’s use of imagery and sensory language creates a powerful and evocative picture of the urban environment. The city is portrayed as a place of excitement and danger, with its flashing lights, rushing traffic, and noisy crowds.

The taxi itself becomes a symbol of the speaker’s desire to escape the chaos of the city. It is a refuge from the noise and bustle of the street, a place of relative calm and safety. The driver of the taxi, who remains silent throughout the poem, is also a powerful presence, representing both the anonymity and the reliability of the city.

The poem is structured around a series of vivid images and impressions, rather than a traditional narrative or plot. Each stanza presents a different aspect of the city, from the “white electric light” of the street lamps to the “rustling, whispering, hushing” sound of the trees in the park. The language is sensual and rhythmic, creating a sense of movement and urgency.

At its core, “The Taxi” is a poem about the experience of modern urban life. Lowell captures the energy and intensity of the city, while also highlighting the need for moments of escape and solitude. The taxi ride becomes a metaphor for the larger journey through life, with its twists and turns, its moments of excitement and danger, and its ultimate destination unknown.

Overall, “The Taxi” is a powerful and haunting poem that captures the essence of the modern city. Lowell’s use of vivid imagery and sensual language creates a vivid and memorable portrait of urban life, while also exploring deeper themes of isolation, connection, and human experience.

Amy Lowell

The Taxi

When I go away from you
The world beats dead
Like a slackened drum.
I call out for you against the jutted stars
And shout into the ridges of the wind.
Streets coming fast,
One after the other,
Wedge you away from me,
ANd the lamps of the city prick my eyes
So that I can no longer see your face.
Why should I leave you,
To wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night?
Amy Lowell Poems
Amy Lowell Poems

 

 

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