Blame Jacob's Ladder

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BLAME JACOB’S LADDER


Well surely, love, you can see 

how readers might—and logically—

conclude that the ascending ones


are headed back from here, the same

place that those they pass 

are making for, by which I ask 


you to concede, my dear, 

how understandable it is if I were

late returning from the grocery store.


Who wouldn’t stare, grown suddenly aware

of how pathetic their disguises are, 

these commuting gods with their carts


and lists, peering down 

on a bag of green beans or brown

bread, and then expecting us 


to be hard-headed enough

to believe that this is necessary

nourishment for their eternal bodies?


All I'm saying is—and please, sit

down for this, my heart—

we're surrounded. They're everywhere.


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