How to Survive in Earthquake Country

Quit it with the fear thing. Scientists can't say

with much certainty when The Big One will happen;

when the Pacific Northwest might cascade

under the sea or when the Golden State will tilt

on its underground axis. Whole cities built

atop wet sand, entire bridge spans swaying.

Everything will be upended. It's inevitable.

Posters in every classroom you've ever been in

show cartoon students ducking under desks.

You know how to shield your neck from falling

fixtures. You live in earthquake country now,

where even the solid ground is destined

to slip. No sirens will warn you, no weathermen

will forecast the tremble. That rumor about dogs-

that they can hear the plates scraping

before they release-is disputed.

The thing about instability is we rarely see it

coming. We go about our days, all hands

and mouths and memories, never fully aware

of the ricochet. We refuse to look it in the eye.

To say with all our teeth,

I know you're possible

.

We wake each morning, never peering down

from our vertiginous denial, and live.