In the subway terminal, Jenkins pulled
His shirt away from his chest and pumped it
Back and forth to circulate the cool air.
The air conditioner took the edge off
The triple digit temperatures of late
October. This Indian summer brought
A shroud of strangling humidity
Not unlike the lingering barnyard smell
Of body odor and urine of the
Typical subway stop. Not only was
There a long line to get through the turnstiles,
But the place was jammed with people standing
Around dripping sweat. Likely, most of them
Had stopped in to take a break from the heat.