Commute Thoughts

September 15, 2017
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The commute is different depending on the time of day

In the morning

The train cars smell of men’s cologne and fresh dry-cleaning and shiny shoes

Of flat-iron-burned hair and perhaps the child three seats down has used raspberry shower gel

Though one can't really tell

They are either soldiers eager to report for duty

Or slumping down in their seats, as though they are timid and afraid of leaving the cocoon of their bed

One’s caffeine intake certainly affects the way they present themselves

I had three cups of coffee, which isn't helping the nervous way my left foot rocks to its own crazy tune

I wonder if anyone can tell how much sheer coffee is running through my veins

In the evening

One has to run to get home at an acceptable hour

Crammed between each other like sardines in their tin prison

It smells quite like that too

All the cologne has been sweat away

And now all one smells is a hard day’s work

The train car

Has become a battered box of crayons

Melting in the July heat

I wonder

If anyone can take a minute

To give up their seat

Or say bless you

Or give away a smile

Sure, we’re all tired

But I like to think even sardines have

Empathy
 






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