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

As 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

A tall, black and white dog entered the dance

It had walked all the way from some dirt skid village in Trinidad

To 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

And 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!

James!

James!

And the DJ jump

James!

James!

James!

James!

James!