Tremors

Since the earthquake, you are so unreal.
The only things real are the piles of bricks and bodies.
The smell of people crammed together, smelling like fear.
The shuddering of windows as planes fly overhead.
The dust from abandoned mats.
The eyes of hungry dogs.
The cries of people in pain.
The need right here in the house--
water, oil, money, everything.
Everything is so real these days.
Only you,
You are what never was.