Quake Time

~ qbit 
It was early, but my day 
was in the can –
shiny and sealed and ready to be shelved –

when the world 
punched through 
its tin

The ground began
	to gear and turn,
		the floor pry open –

Earthquake in New Jersey –
where all the heartbreak 
and forbidden highs 

have festered, dormant,
a tectonic release 
of waitresses in diners,

sloppy love in the parking lot
of the Vince Lombardi 
Truck Stop.

Our dogs blasé, Jersey girls
after all. I open my phone to Spam,
its potted meat of memes

But nothing that can contain
our release, our moment –
our Dinty-Moore botulism

Swelling past the point of explosion –
enough fracked hair 
to fissure rock,

more attitude 
than even the earth
can bear.

For Shay’s Word Garden

8 thoughts on “Quake Time”

  2. Next thing you know, Jimmy Hoffa will rise up out of the end zone and sing boom shaka laka. Poets taking to the streets of Paterson, spooning up Merry Kitchen hash and waving manuscripts like angel wings.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.