Take the D train down to Coney Island
Where no one in their right mind goes swimming
To watch the freaks at no charge
On a day with a vicious blue sky.

Meet me at Nathan's
And I'll politely watch
And wait for you to finish your hot dog
Before asking you to take my hand

And drag me into the sea, far far out.
We'll float on our backs, squint
at the brilliance above, spin our fingers
together. Our clothes choking us, we would quickly
turn red together.

It was silly of us to think our Ashkenazi skins ever had a chance.

Then bury me under the ancient wine
Bottles and the rotting limbs
Of the ocean, to someday be discovered by a diver
And displayed on the dock for schoolchildren.

When the water tears you away from me and you
find yourself on the slotted walk, blistered and tired, old
and desperate, sigh lazily and offer up lewd
comments to androgynous teenagers as burnt
Offerings. Maybe if you shovel yourself
far enough under the glass, God will
Awaken after all these years and come to you
In a whirlwind.