CIRCA 1953

There was a room in Danny's house
they called the junk room. His
mother said we could clear
a space for an old mattress so we
could practice the holds we'd seen
the wrestlers use on television:
head locks, full nelsons, toe holds.
We imagined ourselves in a crowd-
filled arena with cigar and cigarette
smoke churning up to the rafters.
We'd pretend to be in pain when
caught in a Japanese key lock,
screaming our agony convincingly.
Danny said they got the mattress
because his aunt who had cancer
died on it so her family threw
it out but it was okay because
cancer wasn't contagious. Really.
I said I know it isn't but how
about we go outside now and
play football.