quake
a quiet night
no sirens even
no couples screaming
at least you don't hear any
somewhere beneath the earth's surface
deep in human lengths
shallow in crust miles
the earth slips slips slips again
the building you are in jumps and rocks for the first slip
throws you out of bed
stops before you're quite awake
you are one of the lucky ones perhaps
scared, untrusting, maybe terrified
you put on slippers and a robe
go outside and stare at the building
a corner has crumbled you did not know
almost you lose your mistrust
almost you go back inside
the earth leaps under you, throws you on your back
then shakes you like a dog's toy
the building you watch wobbles, splits
falls open like a banana sliced
numbed petrified who knows what?
you see a clear path and retrieve your car
drive to a nearby parking lot away from buildings
watch your own as if anticipating
the third slip underground brings your building down
whatever was left standing is now rubble
a baby wails a woman screams you can't tell where from
sirens sirens sirens everywhere
alarms children crying gunfire
gunfire? gunfire! does someone think they can shoot the earth?
and make it behave?
in times like this, any god will do
you stare at the stars, as unmoved now as when you were a child
and never gave a thought to safety
Wyatt Underwood © 2024
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