Coney Island must be 50 to a 100 miles from

Sing Sing, Poughkeepsie

My youth is peppered with Astroland, the Cyclone, Ed Koch

Getting lost on the beach but remembering

Our towels were near the boardwalk

not completely in line with the Wonder Wheel

But near.

The long line to the Aquarium

The long line to Nathan’s

The long line to the Circus

Wanting to be a mermaid

Wanting to be a barmaid

Biohazard and Anthrax

Beasties and MIA

Judy Torres and Lisa Lisa

Blaring as we rode and flew

Under the moon

Surrounded by fluorescents

Against the faint rumbling of the trains

The salt water stuck to our skins

No one cared

as we lived in the Moment

Of possibly falling off the Cyclone.

Categories: PoetryTags:

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