Morning Traffic

You need coffee in the morning
But what about the morning traffic?
Yeah, that’s right
Even the living room is choked with people

From the bedroom door to the stove
You try to comfort yourself
Yet you keep encountering yourself
Except those specters of you seem like
Distinct people in the blur of the morning

Will you get to work on time?
You keep honking, but nothing happens
You slowly choke on exhaust fumes
Dying on exquisite wooden floors
As sunlight cascades into the room


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