Emmanuel Agrapidis
I Will Walk Through Harlem

There will be a full moon.
The streets will unfurl
into rows of thick brownstones.
The howling in the streets
will not disturb that night air.
The dark-faced figures
around the crackpipe
will glow in their hidden
grotto. Leagues of shadows,
flocks of black birds
will flutter in the sky.
Harlem will open,
the sticky streets will sing
and my heart will burn, glow
like the crackpipe in the grotto.
This will be the flow
that strolls up to you,
the scent of it reaching
windows from the cement
sidewalk below. It will pass
like molasses over my broad
nose. A door will open
and the howling of the streets
will become my own howl
in the moonlight.

  It will be you— dark and full.