Laura Heckel

give me playtime on a silver wheel!
you let me gargle the juice at the bend
in the pantry before the war.

she winces that girl wince—
crinkled, clean donut eyes,
rings where my womb rung out.

in the stinky alley, brats told me to play
in meat—stacking rods thru ports and steam
draining cat tails till I got heavy!

when the hammock boogies
she flicks her white sandals into the basin
like scattered islands.

gleam, sweet thing,

so the soldiers can spot you.