The poem does not show any individuals interacting with each other; there are no snatches of overheard conversation, no gestures of affection or friendship. These people all live close to each other but seem separate and isolated, wrapped up in their own world. “Preludes” thus explores the modern urban experience as one of isolation and alienation between people.

The people move as part of a mass group, lacking individuality or even full personhood, since only parts of them are referred to—feet, hands, fingers, eyes. In referring to them only by isolated body parts, the narrator denies them any distinct personalities or appearances—they are essentially anonymous. The repeated invocation of “hands” alludes to manual labor, emphasizing that the inhabitants belong to the lower class and are engaged in physically demanding and repetitive work. The buildings in which they live are drab, cheerless, dilapidated places that seem to reflect the colorless lives of their occupants. The shades that cover the windows are “dingy” (Line 26) and the blinds are “broken” (Line 10), which speaks of a general poverty in the neighborhood. The houses, like the people the narrator observes, are all alike. The lack of distinction between houses thus serves to reinforce the idea of uniformity and alienation in the urban environment, with everything blending together instead of offering sights or people that are unique and striking.