TOP OF THE CYCLONE
by Lenny Lewis

                                                   TOP OF THE CYCLONE

                                             Fourteen years in the system
                                             is no fun. Said Good-bye to Comstock
                                             didn’t look back. Rode the bus
                                             to Port Authority. Walked the Deuce
                                             To Time Square. Took the D train
                                             to Coney. Ate Mama’s home cooked
                                             meal at home. None of that
                                             jailhouse funny food.
                                             Made a phone call to a woman
                                             I know who didn’t say no.

                                             Fourth of July on  the Coney Island
                                             Boardwalk. Nothing like it. Never lose
                                             the sand in my shoes. Worked
                                             the rides. Hustled the hustles.
                                             Passed Ruby’s and Astroland.
                                             Tenth Street. The high and mighty Cyclone.
                                             “Hey Charlie what are you doing?”
                                             “Looking for a good place
                                             to watch the fireworks.”
                                             “Climb up on top of the Cyclone.”

                                             So I went in the gate to the
                                             ladder only somebody
                                             who works there knows.
                                             Hand over hand. Foot after foot.
                                             I pulled myself to the top.
                                             Pulled myself out of fourteen years
                                             of incarceration.

                                             Stood there under the stars
                                             and the sparkling sky.                                              Alone and free.

About the Author:

Lenny Lewis

Lenny is a jack of all trades. Frequently to be found working as a carney. South in the winter. Coney Island in summer.

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