Canarsie 1984-1996

I drove through my
childhood yesterday

-what a dump-

passed the old redwood shul that was
set on fire
behind the black wire gate I saw
my shadow playing with its eight year old friends
running back and forth
while the grownups prayed-
tag, you’re it!
and down the block was
unknown because I couldn’t walk
alone (now I know- Ralph Avenue
is not for kids)

before the smoke
there was Kosher City and
Jerusalem Pizza and Noam’s
Judaica- and we did tashlich
by the sewers-they smelled
but it was only once a year

(when we moved out to Jersey
Staten Island stuffed our noses everyday)

Canarsie stopped when we left
I think it may not even exist now
except that I drove through
yesterday-like seeing
a childhood friend
aged and shriveled-
Canarsie
the name rolls off my lips,
ends in a hiss,
like redwoods crackling
and fizzling in the smoke.