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.