Hi Harlem #24 - 26
#24 Under the Elevated Railway Tracks In the plant nursery a muscular Chinese man balances on his right hand a tray of miniatures as he walks among the cactuses and hyacinths in the rumbling shadow of the scheduled trains. He brings me back to Kunming, the acrobats climbing up one another, the strongest lifting clear the other two, a trinity exerting pressure at every point and achieving a momentary rest. I see him and I see you look at him, his shorts round and covered in a pretty pattern of ferns, his big arm lifting the greenly growth for home. You walk ahead to sneak a peek back at his face, I following. It’s a good face, strong and open. Love, do you hear somebody call out for Adam? #25 Leave from Harlem Setting his triangular speaker on the train floor, the man does not blast but croons into his mike, making love to the dark glasses on a Roman nose, the gold chain round a throbbing jugular, the phone lighting up a face with radiation, the bandaged hand...