QUAKE They say this is where it ends Here is your conclusion The credits roll, all fades to black But all I see's confusion. On the table lie broken credit cards And a wine glass half past twelve Yet I see no stitches and no rings No healing glance or tape to shelve The bookcase is a treasure But quite a messy one The paperbacks are strewn about The structure's come undone But where is the there and the therefore In the split black belts and cable cords Without a promise or a trace of glue? Spines are gone, no image left So I ask, what's left in split rewards? When it's half past twelve, all's gone black And I've got nothing but jellyfish swords. Written in 2002 for the "Kat's Poetry Challenge" thread at Essence. Poetry