‘When I stopped to let him out, he was looking down. I didn’t know what he was doing. Turned out he was writing a poem about me. I still have it’
I drove a cab in New York for three decades. Riding around, I would meet poets, drag queens and other people who were inspiring. It made me feel good. I started taking their portraits, sometimes with me in the picture. I had several cameras and would often have my strobe hooked on to my visor with a rubber band.
This particular evening, in 1990, I had been informed by a friend that there was a book event going on so I went to take a look. It was jam-packed inside. I spotted Allen Ginsberg, so I went over and talked to him a little. He was pretty intense, kind of stressed, so I had to lay back a little but I asked him if he could write an introduction to my book In My Taxi. But he had too much going on.
