FOREFATHERS, DOWNSTAIRS NEIGHBORS

Some forefathers, we know, dreamed God

and from their dream our world of finite things emerged.

They were the ones who sacrificed a child

to something almighty and invisible.

We also know that some dogs—

that with the passage of time, some people

come to resemble their pet. Occasionally

a source of hilarity, this mostly goes unnoticed.

My downstairs neighbors, by chance a childless couple,

always help me with my groceries, and ask in a whisper

if they’re not bothering me and if there’s anything

they can do for me.

Other forefathers were at a loss when it came to death

and birth alike, in a newborn child

they saw a dead forefather. And the confused faith

they founded has haunted our genes ever since;

my downstairs neighbors have confided in me that they will

and shall reincarnate as a mild-mannered species, as bees.