Commuter Paradise


Newspapers and gadgets are props

covering the hollowed glaze of non-looks.

How to avoid searching too deep,

meaning best left formulated by others,

through shopping sprees and TV,

in front of which you fall asleep.


With pendulous lids and bags dangling on hips

they shuffle along, spilling on platforms,

thundering the footbridges with their cadences of resignation.

Sleep-flushed faces in the dank reek of stations at dawn,

they come and go,

and in their tread I detect fear

of letting down,

of being let go.

12 thoughts on “Commuter Paradise”

    1. Thank you, Margot. I was on a day trip to London recently and the automaton or herd behaviour of the crowds of commuters really struck me. When I was one of them, of course, I didn’t notice it…

      1. I don’t think I could either. (do what my brother-in-law does) It’s not distance as much as just coping with the amount of people going into the US capital city on a weekday morning.

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