Earthquake Country

No rocks rubbing each other
sparking blue-bolt flashes—
so-called earth lightning—

like struck flintstone igniting
quick fire. No disaster film—
cars tossed off roads like ants

shaken from a picnic blanket. Just
flickers when matter flipflops
capsizing earth. Then it’s over

like Perseid shooting stars
like flutter path of moths
like a phone call about death.

I try to -describe the moment when
books shuffled among themselves
but the house did not collapse.