Spring 2012 • Vol. XXXIV No. 2 PoetryApril 1, 2012 |

Quake

Chance had brought the six of us close for a few weeks, close enough for liking, unstrangered, and would scatter us the next day across the wintering continent, zipping up our hearts and waving with gloves on, breath fogging our last sight of each other as we hoisted luggage jammed with limitations (Patrick would live through July) into the trunks of idling cars. Perhaps it was for this reason, our sense of precarious communion, that when the table began to shake we all instinctively reached out and held hands, the way they do at séances, and laughed out an incongruous, sweet laughter like children getting away with something, our fear muted by our distance from the fault that, once roused, had shifted everything in the world but only slightly, an inaudible rumble stirring the guts of our existence as it tickled the candle flames, spangled the moment of wine balanced on its fragile stem, jigged the chairs and table legs, and tingled through bootsoles. Shock and odd pleasure lay

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J. Allyn Rosser’s most recent book of poems is Foiled Again. She teaches at Ohio University, where she edits New Ohio Review.

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Housing the Id

By J. Allyn Rosser

Chance had brought the six of us close for a few weeks, close enough for liking, unstrangered, and would scatter us the next day across the wintering continent, zipping up […]

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