|On the metro I set aside my book and glance|
At the map—a nine-legged spider of subway lines
Smashed under plexiglas, body a downtown splat,
Limbs grasping for the suburbs—
As headphones pipe a half-understood German song
Into my ears, as the rumble and roar
Of the train through the tunnel plays a basso continuo
To my life. And I wonder what would happen
To a person if someone, say me, gave her his
Unconditional love, gave her exactly what she hoped for,
What she needed to get, for one whole year.
Maybe new magic would happen. And a girl
Two rows back slumps against the window,
Silver stud in her eyebrow, black furry earmuffs
Cushioning her as the train rocks her to sleep.