|Somewhere in the middle of a Minnesota farm field
is this ladder and after the lunatics have finished
folding grandmother’s tin foil over lutefisk,
they palm their meds and find their way
to the first rung.
It is not an easy journey.
There are every Friday fresh walleye fries,
dairy cows who look better than most
new mothers, mosquitoes as big as hummingbirds,
hail, frogs, toaster ovens, peppermint schnapps
and a Grain Belt.
The way to the ladder
is not always clearly marked,
and only true lunatics know
whether it is in southern Minnesota,
northern Iowa, or western South Dakota,
near a country trunk or just off I-90
during a January white out.
Once a lunatic ascends the ladder
they do not return to tell. Many jump
once they reach the top.
Some allow collars to be starched,
clothes to be folded, and their boots
to be placed next to the back door.