Choked awake into a morning
dusty soot filled my lungs.
Throat burning,
Struggled to reach
a water glass on my bed stand.
Instead of finding the
smooth touch of a cool, clear cup,
I scratched my fingertips on cinder blocks
jaggedly piled beside me.
My eyes snap open.
The world flooded my perception.
Crammed space and little slivers of light
Micro-motel room walls
collapsed in around me
and there was dust
still falling onto my bed.
The wall next to my bed
crushed the bed stand;
The wall next to my bed
tipped precariously.
The ceiling above me
tilted unnaturally.
Suddenly
screams from behind me
Pushing rubble-covered sheets off,
I shook my jeans free of dust.
Standing,
I gag from crap in the air,
then wrestle my old flannel
to make my way to the door.
Without thinking
I yank the door open,
and saw a terrible new world
for the first time.
Adam F.C. Fletcher 