Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Morning Commute

Today, I offer my daily internal monologue in quasi-poetic form.

Morning Commute

Get out of my way, lady.
Oh lady, get out of my way.
Get out of my way, lady.

Every time I change at Gallery Place
I die a little inside,
herded among the somnambulant masses.

Every morning, the river shows me
another side of itself,
and every morning, I am grateful.

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