Faces in a row wait to begin the daily shunt.
Sat aboard we bow our heads to handheld binary,
ignoring the large TV on adjacent walls.
Their broadcast, another repeat of moving scenery.

We sit with thumb in repetition; we know yesterday's story.
But the curiosity of which we serve fails to resist;
the craving for a pictorial record of a faux friend’s breakfast.

Lonely subjects completely surrounded by people.
Yet we hide – validating ourselves as socialites by algorithms of technology.
We sit, hoping to avoid a mundane clone of yesterday,
but facilitate it with various levels of hope for a change of train and different journey.

We’d know the grass isn’t greener on the other train’s TV,
if we looked up to see it.
Appreciate today’s episode, supply a faint smile to another, chat without a digit,
we may yet remedy our hope.