by Rachel Edelman
Patchwork earth-place. Patchwork lithosphere
of plates sutured like skin. Around the mantle's
riot wraps our smoothed-out habitable
surface. Windy semblance of calm. Here,
the growls of jet engines. Hear the hum
of helicopters over the Aurora Bridge,
the hot local spot for giving
it all up. Choppers monitor fervors
of traffic. Just steel propelled across
asphalt at the mouth of the Fremont Canal.
Just steel struts & joists that'll fracture
when the fault goes. It's not the tremor
that gets us: it's after. Keep the tank full.
Drive inland 'til you run out of gas.