by James Kangas Luca Bravo This brown ceramic rooster, this mottled arc, ceaselessly crowing of its imminent fall from the bric-a-brac mantle to a headlong, unfeathered oblivion; the liquid calm of this hand’s idle arrangement on its startled throat, could spark the trick of flying blind to a streaked light, to a grand poetic dawn. This postcard from Rhode Island of the morning room’s heavy doors, the damask grouping rosy before the fireplace, the faceless mirror, the massive