morning commute

what a strange and awful thing it is,
to stand at the edge of a subway platform.
overpriced caffeine in hand,
worries in my shoulders,
how can I learn to talk to my father?
looking up at the flatscreen tv on the dirty ttc walls:
the one year anniversary of a war approaches.
this is nothing new to humanity,
carrying on with your own mundane worries,
did i leave the kettle on?
While a little girl loses her doll underneath the rubble that is now her house.

what a strange and awful life it is…
i can’t believe i forgot my headphones at home.