James Brown’s waxed face graces the New York PostCarnival starts in Harlem two months early
A hawk feather stabbed like a dart the dirt roadThis morning, as though to play that mile of desert.
And in the stream we crossed to Seven FallsPointing ourselves in the pitch of water’s warbly wave,
The apartment is long, soif, upon waking, one turns one’s head on the pillowaway from the wall, it becomes possible to seeall the way through the hallway, the livingroom, the kitchen, all the way to the strangerat the counter, where he is placinga small amount of…