My Boat Broke
Somewhere between an in and out wave,
my boat broke; it's an essential
scaled down vessel of my body -
I become somewhat alarmed.
Water being almost always in a fluid state
did the unexpected and played dead.
It attained a most unusual state
of neck down paralysis
and so, head moving left and right
yet frozen beneath,
(assuming there was a beneath),
I remained trapped upwards,
caught like a fruit fly in a glass of merlot.
The boat, though riddled with holes,
sinks only to the gunnels yet plows on,
gliding gracefully upon a moon-path
toward a moon that had hid its face under
a soggy pillow.
By now I could hear the bed creaking
under the strain of being nudged
by several icebergs.
‘I am not a fruit fly’, I shouted,
as a rising sun
raced to a corner of the bedroom
to watch my dreaming brain
struggle up to the level of its eyes
while I reluctantly bobbed
in the stale undercurrent
of that fourth unwise
glass of red wine.
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