i can't feel my toes. i can see the polish, blood lacquer. the train vibrates under me. i feel it through the street, through the bench i sit on. this man walks aswagger- another to the drumming from the dance complex adjacent hubba hubba, the fetish store (they don't even have thigh-high heels). are they having a drum circle up there? an older gentleman flirts with the shopgirl who closes the grate at hubba hubba. he wears a pageboy cap and nonchalance. he jokes at her imprisonment in the shop this evening. what am i doing here? still can't feel my toes. earlier i tried to give a homeless woman gourmet jelly beans. what the fuck is wrong with me?