Shake n' Bake Taxi

Canvas Prints


Joined July 2011

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Sizing Information

Small 12.0" x 8.0"
Medium 18.0" x 12.0"
Large 24.0" x 16.0"
X large 30.0" x 20.0"


  • Each print is individually stretched and constructed for your order
  • Epson pigment inks using Giclée inkjets to ensure a long life
  • UV protection provided by a clear lacquer
  • Cotton/poly blend Canson canvas for brighter whites and even stretching


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Artist's Description

Canon 5D Mark 2, 24-105mm 1:4 lens. Photoshop CS5

•SHAKE AND BAKE TAXI• a drive by poem by Flyrod

He lives in a tunnel under the city
Where all that surrounds him is damp and gritty

Fresh fares are waiting up on the streets
A night to remember for all who he meets

With a combination of fear and speed
This psycho taxi driver gets all that he needs

He speaks in a tongue from some foreign nation
Minutes away from a moving violation

You wait at the corner but there’s no cab in sight
Then he breaks through the darkness of night

You have no choice because you’re running late
No time to be choosy you don’t hesitate

The windows are dark and you can’t see inside
You’re on the verge of one hell of a ride

You tell the driver, “Let’s go to the airport”
The driver nodes “yes” and lets out a snort

When he steps on the gas rubber starts burning
Your heart start to race and you stomach is churning

You grab for the seat belt, you see that it’s broken
It’s getting real hot and the engine is smokin’

It smell like a toilet and the seat feels wet
You’re doomed on a ride that you’ll never forget

He slams on the brakes when the light turns red
You hit the divider with the front of your head

The driver is nuts and the cab starts to swerve
You‘re getting whiplash and loosing your nerve

You scream at the driver, “Hey let me Out!”
He clinches his fist and waves it about

He sideswipes a truck and lets out a swear
You beg him for mercy but he doesn’t care

You sweat like a pig and it’s hotter than hell
This old tinder box is your jail cell

He stops at the airport, the door opens wide
You kiss the ground knowing you could have died

The fare is fifty bucks and he want a big tip
He’s waving a gun so don’t give him no lip

There by the curb he spots his next fare
A sucker just waiting to be in his lair

The Shake and Bake Taxi’s got a new inmate
A terrified sole in an old yellow crate.

Artwork Comments

  • flyrod
  • Darlene Lankford Honeycutt
  • flyrod
  • Nigel Bangert
  • flyrod
  • John Schneider
  • flyrod
  • WildBillPho
  • flyrod
  • AuntDot
  • flyrod
  • debarlene
  • flyrod
  • LudaNayvelt
  • flyrod
  • Steven  Agius
  • flyrod
  • Tammera
  • flyrod
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