Northridge The evening battle augured the earthquake.I shouted, tippled and vapored intothe troubled sleep of the self-damned,despairing of our vows and the lie of identityI needed  to survive you.I dreamt roughly of Michelangelo andathletes on Greek urns, until jolted awake to thecacophony of mountains disintegrating —a roar so thrilling to the eardrum and marrow itsurely…