Rachel Jeffcoat

IF I MUST BE THE ANGEL IN THE HOUSE

let it be the one from Revelation
six-winged cloud-clothed voice like righteous 

thunder. my housekeeping’s a joke but when I drop 
my robe of light and unwind     flaming limbs 

you’ll not mind the scorch marks 
on the sheets. this angel does not give 

advice but I can prophesy the marvels 
you have there between your ribs

can disco-ball into a darkened corner 
illuminate the soul who needs to hear that nothing

is impossible. impossible? no, I slide bolts 
from prisons, call down pillars of fire

to warm you   warn your enemies   set you dancing 
to the psaltery and the harp and call you 

holy        holy        holy

after, life

At first this heaven fills itself with things 
you are expecting    versailles gardens
harps bureaucracy celebrities and grandmas 
perched on clouds. But this is only kindness —

heaven wearing stop-gap human clothes. Soon you’re ready 
and the smooth lawns      tendril upwards into strange
profundities.    Colours tessellate in extra-spectrum 
arias.    You remember we invented arias 
anyway. And fake tan    birthday banners monarchy

thirty-day returns policies.     Now un-day after un-day 
post-earth cuts you freer larger     clean 
like a blade shows you that the joys 
you had were seeds of something more 
unspeakable.         Now you live easy 

in the fiery heart of god. Run your fingers 
over all the scars you won.     Say

I am here yes I am still here

Rachel Jeffcoat is a Hampshire-based poet whose work has appeared in publications including Atrium, Humana Obscura and Tears in the Fence, and is forthcoming in New Welsh Review, Under the Radar and Off the Chest's Spaces of Significance anthology. Her pamphlet ‘Moult’ was recently shortlisted for publication by The Emma Press.

Rachel wrote the following about her poems:

As a church-goer, I’ve often thought that religion puts comprehensible human boundaries onto the divine. The wonder of the universe, for me, is in the idea that things are so much wilder and stranger than we are able to imagine. In these two poems I tried to disrupt idealised domestic and religious imagery with some of that oddness and expansiveness, using non-conventional spacing and unexpected juxtapositions to surprise the reader into thinking bigger. If I must be the angel in the house — and I’m not convinced I must — I’d like to be one that provokes a little shock and awe.