Earthquake, Part 3
Nearly three weeks after Costa Rica’s devastating earthquake, the land has subsided into new contours. In the area around the epicenter, formerly pristine waterfalls are now mud-brown, and rivers have changed course. Official rescue teams have discontinued their search efforts for the dozens of still-missing persons . The death count stands at 25, and those spared by the earthquake now face the task of rebuilding their homes and their lives. Disturbing reports have emerged about private helicopter companies charging exorbitant rates to rescue victims and phony organizations pocketing money they claim to have collected for earthquake victims.
The following poem by Susanna Lang (from Even Now, The Backwaters Press, June 2008) captures the post-earthquake feeling of loss and disorientation and the bewildering interplay between natural disaster and bureaucratic response:
by Susanna Lang
Even diplomats are required to pay the tax, said the
Shopkeepers have disappeared in full daylight and the
daylight disappeared as well.
The eclipse could be seen from Brazil to Mongolia,
but not here;
we did not even bother to look.
Even the flowing river has been blocked;
they had tape of the official announcement on the
A cemetery has been buried and another relocated,
the graves dug up one by one to make room for an
The developers arranged for a 120 year old oak to be
its rootball exposed and trimmed before it was lifted
onto the flatbed.
Even the government knows where the earth will
quake and split,
removing entire sections of the city as if they were
except that we will remember them, the streets and
houses shaded by trees;
but no one knows when.
Even our parents have lost their way home.
The streets turn right where they used to turn left,
the lights blink red, the bridge is permanently raised,
the freight train stops at the crossing.
It may not move again until tomorrow.
Even you have misplaced your keys, your wallet, the
reason you were leaving the house,
and I can’t find that paper I just had in my hands
or the story I used to know by heart.
We have all lost so many things, perhaps all we had,
(Susanna Lang’s first collection of poems, Even Now, was published in 2008 by The Backwaters Press, and is available from the press or from Amazon. She has published original poems and essays, and translations from the French, in such journals as The Baltimore Review, Kalliope, Southern Poetry Review, World Literature Today, Chicago Review, New Directions, Green Mountains Review, Jubilat, and Rhino. Book publications include translations of Words in Stone and The Origin of Language, both by Yves Bonnefoy. She won a 1999 Illinois Arts Council award for a poem published in The Spoon River Poetry Review. She lives with her husband and son in Chicago, where she teaches at a Chicago Public School.)
Click here to order Even Now, by Susanna Lang.
Writing and editing by Beaumont Hardy Editing.