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.

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