Trains cut through
the gluey summer air;
impatient workers
stare nervously at their watches.
They have already missed dinner.
Still they rush.
Between the whirring
of industrial air conditioners,
the crack of stilettos
against a fragmented tile floor,
and the blunt force
of passing trains
a blind man
taps out a rhythm
with the tip of his cane and sings
I only have eyes for you.
Passengers pack into subway cars
with music blasting through headphones.