With Brahms in the Background

I'm always outbound
While they rush inbound--
To work, to work,
Ye suited jerks!--
Unmindful of admirers
So casually encountered.
One fancies the cut of their giblets,
The fine-tuned tailoring and such.

Outside, above,
Their brudders in overhorsed Euro-machines
Race to hit amber;
They barely make it, cursing,
Careening,
Putting crosswalking nannies and cyclists at risk.

And what of those cyclists?
The firmbodies speed and joust with
Vans, cabs, buses,
Flaunting all rules because they are "virtuous."
A crucial meeting or delivery deadline
Kicks daredevils of all ilks and persuasions
Into the highest, most hazardous gear.

Add commuters on scooters,
Sans dingers and hooters,
Who clip sidewalk toodlers,
Whip up dust, split canoodlers
Into singles: no wooers!
Helmetless menaces every bloke,
They won't slow, they won't brake,
But they may leave broken bones
In their wake.

The music swells,
And I hear this plaint:
~Is there in your psalter,
Father of love,
A tone that they may hear
To slacken their hearts?~