earthquakes keep happening and i keep not feeling them

My mother
says that her grandmother
(can’t remember if it’s the Portuguese one
or the Italian one) would tell her
that she could always tell if it was
“earthquake weather,” and that “earthquake weather”
consists of a red-orange sky the evening directly before
the upcoming earthquake. 
I’m in Los Angeles,
which is where I live now, and there are no
wise grandmothers here to tell me
what to predict in the stars. My mother tells me that
since we’re Portuguese
we can always navigate
if there’s a body of water nearby. Which is bullshit.
I’m terrible at directions.
The sky is lip-gloss pink
humming in between the missing white fence posts, while I listen to
“Teen Age Riot” by Sonic Youth,
and two nights ago I dreamed that we were all in
my apartment, and saw on the news that “the big one”
had come, and we knew we’d never make it. So we all—
you and her and her and him and him and her
(but mostly you)—
gathered around, wondering what things are the last things
you should say. An earthquake
twenty minutes ago, 3.4 magnitude, and I didn’t
a thing.

About Megan Lent

Megan Lent is the author of 3 Stories and Nuestra Madre. She has been published by Metazen, Medium, Keep This Bag Away From Children, The Nervous Breakdown, and Big Lucks. She can also be found on Twitter and Tumbler.

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