Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2011

the shakes

by summer beretsky

one limb jerks, then another.
i cannot run for cover
as the rumble underground

unlocks an internal blunder
in Earth’s swollen gut.
bedrock, is this my fault?

rock ledges sharpened
by tectonic lathe push up to puncture
the surface of the road.

limbs locked: arms at the elbows,
legs at the knees.
standing at the shoulder

of the road, asphalt underfoot
pregnant with ridges, a current
passes through my nerves

now reduced to remnants.
a good earthquake always invites an aftershock.
her courtesy is moving.

Added: 13.04.2011

Judges' comments on this poem


very compelling imagery; not sure about the last line.