To Heaven Poem by Zyw Zywa

We hop to heaven
With us, that's the hundred, three
houses ahead, but throwing is allowed
from any lower zero

A game lasts all day
with breaks when mother comes
to treat us on a rug
beside the track, telling stories

of swimming in the inner bend
of the river and the tough boys
tapping the ships for the fastest
sitting down on her, dripping

and threatening to drown her
if she would tell - no, no
she promised, sure as she was a virgin
and she sealed it with a kiss, and

one more if she liked the boy
Dad was the sweetest: she held him
just as long, until he fell on her
turned red and did not dare to get up