ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 4
WAITING FOR THE EARTHQUAKE
the dead who can
be named the dead
who are pointed out
the dead who will
never be embraced
in memory feel their
hovering near us in
our waiting time
between oil and money
comes the fate of the
practice of violence
the rattling noise
of our metal animals
and the humming in
our ears of a wind
rising through the belly
of earth where lie
bodies of ancestors
let us speak frankly
of the end of the world
that was so grand and
of a new world of things
falling buildings bodies
wealth but not
the same rain we
have known and called
by name now many
millenia the old rain
holds back the new
rain is in a new sky
smudged pierced by the
practice of men