in cerebral palpitations i navigate heavy headed as my feet brush victoria station, i meet leeroy on board who starts conversation and tells my profession.  he talks of london's best vegetarian pasty shops & gives me a vegetarian protein sausage roll of faux-frankfurter palate, we share my leftover salad in borrowed tuperware, me with fingers, him with plastic spoon, i receive an invite to the seaside where he had moved to a nice bungalow with the inheritance of his parent's council home in Highbury.   i spoke of my socialist grandad who i'd never met and st ives, my love of the sea.  if i had gone with leeroy, shaped like a rare rhino, perhaps i'd be happy!  we'd tour through the vegetarian restaurants , id drink relentlessly of coffee, i wonder would i start eating dry but sweet jewish pastries, so well constructed i do think.  but leeroy was too old, and i remain comfortless in company.