Saturday Poem

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I’m Climbing You
Erica Jong
…………………………………

I want to understand the steep thing

that climbs ladders in your throat.

I can’t make sense of you.

Everywhere I look you’re there–

a vast landmark, a volcano

poking its head through the clouds,

Gulliver sprawled across Lilliput.
…………………………………

I climb into your eyes, looking.

The pupils are black painted stage flats.

They can be pulled down like window shades.

I switch on a light in your iris.

Your brain ticks like a bomb.
…………………………………

In your offhand, mocking way

you’ve invited me into your chest.

Inside: the blur that poses as your heart.

I’m supposed to go in with a torch

or maybe hot water bottles

& defrost it by hand

as one defrosts an old refrigerator.

It will shudder & sigh

(the icebox to the insomniac).
…………………………………

Oh there’s nothing like love between us.

You’re the mountain, I am climbing you.

If I fall, you won’t be all to blame,

but you’ll wait years maybe
for the next doomed expedition.
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