London Calling

An explosion
of consciousness
in the middle of the night
as I stir and find myself
suddenly:

all the previous day’s events
rattling, then tumbling
into a mess of unintended angles
and dust.

The blitz
in me
drives me from bed to couch

where I sit
and stare into the reverberation
until I’ve spent an hour
dead awake, waiting for more bombshells;

then I head back to bed
where I lie back
and think of old London
alive though devastated,
waiting for its chance
to build again.