One
Corie Feiner
ROCKAWAY PARK
When will this become the paradise
it was promised to be?
On the cold open-air platform
I feel like the train will never come,
that nothing comes here but beach waves
and garbage barges and housing projects.
The burnt out buildings
facing Broad Channel are like ruins
from another time, but there is no
other time, there is only now
and what is left over now--
The shanties built on stilts frozen
in the water, the chipped wood frames,
the burnt paint, and cracked pavement slumped
like it, too, is tired of living here.
I mistake electrical poles for schooner masts,
a place of gathering, shops, music, and piers
where the kids raise their shoulders and strip
the puffy black jackets from their backs,
where they lay in the sun even when the waves
are frozen in place.
When will this become the paradise
it was promised to be?
Of beef patties and spice rice.
Of koomba, klezmer, and clarinets
and beach water yearning to come to the shore?
___________________________
Corie Feiner is a New York-based poet, performer and educator. She can be reached
through www.coriefeiner.com
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