We were staying in a warehouse near the Pulaski Bridge

In Greenpoint, in Brooklyn

The Delfonics were overflowing from Hot 97 Deep soul

The kinda soul that blows cold as cold New York in December

This would only happen once

We had no hot heat no running water

But earlier we had been discussing Glissant

Fanon and Breton

Ruminating upon Ted Joans and Bob Kauffman before heading into the Village

And James he was the greatest dancer in the club that night

I had to stop to watch him spin

When he threw his hands up and twirled

Voguing into something ecstaticas

The sweat kept dripping from the walls of the basement

He threw his shirt open

To Archie Bell and the Drells he threw his head back

To somersault in his skin James James !

The floor upstairs was different

It was all orange haze and house

More mellow the tempo, more easy on the knees. It was cool, That is until a tall black and white dogentered the dance

It had walked all the wayfrom some dirt skid village in Trinidadto New York

Where it walked onto the dance floor wagging its tail

To bite them on their ankle to bite them on the knee to bite them while they dancing to bite them

The dog bark hard in the people place. The dog bus a laugh in the DJ face

The dog threw a bottle in the people dance. the dog press a button and the dj jump

And then to stand at the door holding a razor blade rub with garlic, so people running out

Wouldn't know they get cut when they running out

And get cut. Stupid - stupid

When I told James that he was a dancer with hips of precision, that he could move

— he leapt

And clicked his heels on St Marks Place, 'That's what they say', he said

That's what they say!