The Rush Hour Commute

My head is in your armpit
And your bag is on my toe.
The lady standing opposite’s
Pink thong is out on show.

We’re crammed into a carriage,
Of a London rush hour train,
And the floor’s a sea of puddles,
That we walked in from the rain.

The man who looks so serious,
All dressed up in his suit,
Isn’t checking emails,
Like you’d think on his commute.

In fact he’s playing Angry Birds
And he just got a high score,
That email from his boss will wait,
I think he’ll play some more.

The lady in the corner,
With a bump that’s almost due,
Looks more fed up than all of us
Well, she is fed up for two..

We all go about our journeys,
And we never say a word;
If someone breaks the rule and speaks,
We act like we’ve not heard.

It’s home time and we’re tired,
We want tea and a sit down,
We’re all counting down the stops
Until we leave the underground.

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This entry was posted in Daily Life, Travel and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to The Rush Hour Commute

  1. I wouldnt be able to survive the underground! Great poem though, very funny 😊

    Like

  2. words4jp says:

    This is so funny. I wrote something like this last summer -but I was stuck in rush hour traffic driving home. It was one of those creep crawly commutes. 🙂

    Like

    • PookyH says:

      I know it sounds perverse but I quite enjoy the rush hour crush now it only punctuates my life occasionally. That said, I think most of the enjoyment comes from being safe in the knowledge that I don’t have to do it every day…

      Like

  3. topazo says:

    very nice rhymes…a well painted picture..
    i like the part about the serious man in suit..playing angry birds…

    Like

  4. Been there, done that! Great poem.

    Like

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