he looks into the camera looks inside to see himself pulling tiles off the subway's walls overhead the street is an illuminated river of corpuscles bustling streaming screaming for his attention he flirts with the crowd and calls out watch my hands watch me dance is this better? back home on the walls the paint peels like a sunburn he stands in an empty bathtub tries to fly like a blackbird useless arms flapping frantic as wings that he dreams will take him hither and yon