out there on the muggy shores of the dead sea,
I felt the ground shake and move beneath me.
out there in black mud and heavy air,
I went there to be moved and out in the desert,
Pangaea herself seemed to tremble with hurt.
With purpose I fled to the ends of the world,
And heedless, Mama earth, her warnings she hurled.
“Flee if you must,” Mama P said,
“but the escape you must know,
is all in your head.”
Fling your net as far as you desire,
but no airplane or dream
escapes the wrath of her fire.