The Rungs of Heaven He showed up before us H(E aven ) before everyone He assessed the skeleton of the house, its

frame His eyes gauging the spaces between studs sixteen inches of sky between the 2 X 4s. He secured his toolPouCH He fa&tened his boots He spato-o-o-o-o-o-o-oned his chewing tobacco He adjusted the yellow hardhat that cradled his BIG SOFT MOON FACE He stared through the sixteen inches between the studs. One. by. one the slow and beaten horses of cars nuzzled the curb of this jobsite:: :: :: The car with a crippled, cratered door $DENT$ The car with a dragging muffler $DING$ The truck with REDNECK lettered in the back window $DECAL$ The ha lf a car that still ra-ah-ah-ah-ahn with a toOthless grill that steamed and chuckled. All the workers finally here, from their dented, used-up lives, warming in dashboard heat before stuffing hands through chewed-up gloves, fastening over(OSH-KOSH-PAGOSH)all buckles, fitting scuffed-up plastic hardhats awkward over winter cAps. SERVI TUDE He watched the last car rattle in before he lumbered up the ladder. mammoth steel-toed work boots clunking Rung by Rung by Rung by Rung, trailing metal lunchbox in one

He unwound himself from a tangle of air hoses unraveled his restrictive noOse of extension cables he'd coiled up neatly the Night before. He blew warm breath through cupped fingers, ~a wasted prayer~ through bi t t er, cold fingers.

HAND .

He tamed his tape measure between beam | between beam | between beam | between beam | felt his hands along the walls for nails that might have shot through. His CONFIDENCE lay distributed through the beams of tHis house. Not even his Wife (she'd fastened herself to a different set of studs, she'd been nailing herself elsewhere, she'd thought she had him criPpl ed ) could unlevel the security of beams He himself had laid out. Had been laid in long before she'd framed herself and their two kids in another house with another man. He called down once for the guys to work below him He spelled misery with cold huffs of breath His hammer pounded it in above them, a muffled, moot point thudding through the ceiling: IF YOU WANT IT DONE RIGHT YOU DO IT YOURSELF do it yourself do it yourself The sky thawed above him. His hammer and buzz-saw spoke for him that day, all the way four stories D O
W

through the rafters through the joists. The weight of unhappiness clattered down the rungs knocking loose soft earth and grit from between his boot-treads like all the little things he'd never paid a mind to that were dislodged from the life he had walked through. On Lunch Break he sat in the cab of his truck, windows rolled up, the outline of his face just a thin, dissappearing shadow behind windows bright with sunshine cold plates of sunshine like thin ice, He erected scaffolding around his heart He put up trusses and braces inside to keep it still. He ascended the ladder. He heard the grit crunch beneath his boots up the rungs rungs climbing up against the top floor against cold blue HEAVEN above the House. His army of nails ordered silent in their box. --Work continueD beneath Him-Men handling long oak boards onto SAwhorsES buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz saw, ripping down its length

parting the

When his ladder kicked out beneath him (. it went unnoticed .) He flailed for a !hold! !behind! !in front! BENEATH air gaining gaining a cold copper penny flipping excitement in his gut WAGES spinning it must have taken loooong seconds for him to land He had been thinking of his wife's chili, the soft petals of his childrens laughter Everything had been so __flat__ and clear, his last Image D ER'S RUNGS still, silent offering the unforgiving blue of HEAVEN. D . . . . .

that will support this home.

grain of timber

momentum

WEIGHT

LA