Canto of the Earthquake House: a flashback

…quand’io senti’, come cosa che cada,

tremar lo monte; onde mi prese un gelo

qual prender suol colui ch’a morte vada.

—Canto 20, lines 127–129

And so, the tremors tense and tune

the house-frame, and we adjust our steps

and sleep accordingly. Everywhere

the markers, fracture zones, radiating

purities of shakedown, vibrations

wrenching circles out of straight line,

emanating over paddocks and prepositions,

chattering teeth and psyches

of dust-dry evenings—then it seems

more likely forms will come unstuck: with rain

water runs to fill the gaps, dew

quivers on a eucalypt leaf

to drop and disperse, sink to where

shaking begins, or where shaking

observes innate laws and ghosts

don’t feel a thing. But here, no matter

how far we rush from helter-skelter

of proliferating epicentres, the call

barely settles us: ‘Gloria in excelsis Deo’,

and again, ‘Gloria in excelsis Deo’,

like a lift from Quotable Quotes;

and to steady the addiction—

a homeopathy—we travel up past

the great epicentre of colonial

memory, Meckering, damn-near

centre of the Great Quake of ’68,

travelling, travelling to Cunderdin,

where Mum still teaches—occasionally—

at the ag school—English

and plant science woven to salt

scalds, woven among targeted

poisoning and animal husbandry—travelling

to the Cunderdin Museum,

housed in an old Golden Pipeline

pumping station, vast steam engine

that pushed water up to the waterless,

up to the thirsty scouring the goldfields…

therein, inside the museum, a replica house

with a shaker below the floorboards,

set in motion by the push of a button:

a shaking house, an earthquake house,

a rural house with pioneering overtones

though late ’60s in derivation, a verandah

to look out from, to ride the rippling surface,

that terrifies then amuses children,

furnishings and paraphernalia

crashing down and the world around

the earthquake house standing stock-still,

as museums will. This region is obsessed…

and lives taken are lives risen,

‘Gloria in excelsis Deo’ sung to them,

the compaction of time, intensity

of moment, rendering hot and cold,

elation and desperation as a blur

of colours, of tastes, of pumps,

and trains, and stonework cracking,

charging towards illuminism.