There was a bang after all.
The earth had had enough
of diplomacy and dithering.

how much concrete and steel
does it take to break
a planet’s patience?

We were asleep on our futons
when the letter burst its seal.
The walls turned to chalk dust
as I reached for you but then
the timber beams came down
and you were crushed.

they said Tokyo would be first
to explode, these people of fact
that we worship

I stood there in the gusts
of burning flesh, winter sky
pouring down through the gap
then I dropped to my knees
and cried out for another beam.
Why should I be left behind?

that freeway over there –
they swore it would last
longer than our emperor

Inside is death: outside, rescue.
A woman teeters on the shattered
bricks of her house. She wears
a fine leather coat from Italy.
She will sleep in it tonight
after she banishes the police.

at dusk children sift ashes
slowly through their fingers
to find their father’s bones

*reflections on Kobe, after the quake

Published in Kiss and Tell (Interactive Press, 2002).