Leaving home to go into the city
Join my colleagues for the commute
What is the train to us?
It is not something we worship
The city has been built on a scale
Our minds can barely fathom
It's diffuse pollution always moving
inescapable
off the train
under the concrete block legs of the subway station
Collegues disperse happily their purpose intact
Dawn gurgling like an echo of my empty stomach
Inside the small workshop
I look for pieces of paper that match
In my mind I am organizing
The veterans grin as I struggle
They know the truth
they've felt the chaos
I struggle on with my false hunches
Inside my limited box of a mind
And there is only labor
productivity and interaction based on that
Soon i will be going back to that iron serpent
which will carry my colleagues and I home
We could be cargo based on the superficiality of our interactions
We could be cargo for our passive repetitive thinking
Unquestioning and perfectly indifferent
conditioned to the practical reality of the work week
Avoiding deeper questions
Finally quashing the capacity to contemplate such
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