Excuse me if I take a look at what you’re reading in that book.

I’ve often thought I might — buy one myself to read at night.

But every morning on the train, I just read yours — it’s not a strain

To lean in close, take in each word, and thus, it really seems absurd

To spend the money that I earn, when I can follow as you turn

Each page you read on this commute, your choices always quite astute.

Excuse me but could I suggest, something easier to digest?

What’s that I hear you say? You’ll gladly do it if I pay?