::03:06:08::

::: The Suits :::

They push their way through the subway turnstiles,
like cattle herded by cowboys and dogs.
The weekday morning jam backs up for miles,
horns blaring in traffic, the exhaust fogs.
Men in stiff suits and expensive silk ties,
Blackberries in hand, yelling foreign commands.
Women in shoes so sharp they could poke out eyes,
Starbucks in hand, scaring assistants with demands.
So much haste, so early in the morning.
I walk with slow strides and music blaring,
disrupting the pace of the suits without warning.
I simply smile at their scoffing and glaring.
How do they live life like it’s a race?
I’m not sure, but I’ll just enjoy my snail’s pace.

Written by: ~ Sean Terry