Happy Morning People Waiting On The Monday Morning Train

Waiting on the morning train one Monday,
trying to ignore the happy morning people;
listening from a distance not so far away
to the jabberwocky gossip over black joe,
that soon be all but vague muddled prattle,

with the steel of metal wheels fast approaching,
the clatter and the clamor on planked railing
the escalating screeching from a thousand yards away
deafening ‘pon arrival at the station,
just temporary, though the ringing always lasts
another thousand yards on the Tinitus Train to work.

And I abhor those nineties yuppies, still in step
pushing through the aisle with their trademark arrogance.
Thirty minute ride, hanging on to tethered straps;
then again this noise machine does have its upside;
I no longer hear those happy morning people.

FjR-MMXV