Fault

In the airport bar, I tell my mother not to worry.

No one ever tripped and fell into the San Andreas

Fault. But as she dabs at her dry eyes, I remember

those old movies where the earth does open.

 

There's always one blonde entomologist, four

deceitful explorers, and a pilot who's good-looking

but not smart enough to take off his leather jacket

in the jungle.

 

Still, he and Dr. Cutie Bug are the only ones

who survive the spectacular quake because

they spent their time making plans to go back

to the Mid-West and live near his parents

 

while the others wanted to steal the gold and ivory

then move to Los Angeles where they would rarely

call their mothers and almost never fly home

and when they did for only a few days at a time.

Ron Koertge, Geography of the Forehead (University of Arkansas Press, 2000)