FAULT LINES
Sometimes the fault line, sometimes the fault.
There will be consequences for all the actions
Taken here, the wind, the rain, the mornings without
Incident when we neglected to differentiate between
One day and another, believing each day was just
Like another because our surroundings remained
the same. One cannot trust to consciousness
To explain change. People die totally unnoticed.
The kind of music they loved may appear in a dream
Shifting between call and response, Ol’ Hannah,
then that sound of hammer against huge steel nails.
We struggle and swim ashore. “Are you having
A good time?’ The ground beneath our feet
Opens and the tectonic plates move slightly,
Not much, just enough to bring down Los Angeles.
Our feelings are electric. They belong to the realm
Bounded by animals, guarded by animals, surrounded
By others who bear a resemblance to ourselves but
Will always remain other. We still choose to call them
Brother, afraid that if we do not we will no longer be able
to read the book, stand in lines with them waiting to get in.
This is a form or praying or so I am told by the swirl
time puts on on our presence here. There will be
consequences for all the actions taken here.
Sometimes the fault line, sometimes the fault.
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