The Sky is Falling! The Sky is Falling!

It hasn’t been the best new year so far. I’ve been in a funk and the walls that surround me seem to be tumbling, which could be freeing, but they also hold up the roof, and it is now falling on me. As we are building up the troops near Iraq, my troubles seem to coagulate as well. Dubya says he is doing all possible to avert while we continue to clog, and I seem to be ignoring my own little clot.

I can throw myself into work, into the charts and graphs, checklist, budgets and schedules and try to forget that the sky is falling. falling gently all over Georgia tonight. Skyfall is general all over the Southeast tonight. It is rain and hail, touches of snow in the higher altitudes, and chicken eggs across the coastal plains.

Ultimately I have become conflicted, some would say afflicted with confliction. The heart desires what the head does not. I am on a boat, or I am a boat, that will not sail. The captain is at the pub, drunk, and has yet to report for duty. All the mates are shacked up with one portside hooker or another, and the galley men are stuck inside locked cabins… cursing. There are barnacles resembling my mother attached to the starboard hull and black seabirds circle about scavenging for the leftover remains of fast-food wrappers, beer bottle tops, psychologically aborted babies.

I swash the deck for a while, until night fall. Make a snack of presbyterian wafers and cream cheese with chicken guts. A tisket, a tasket, dead babies in a basket. An oilslick carrying dead marine life stretches between me and the sun going down, and even farther, to the whalebone descending to the left and down the street, in the neighborhood where the billions of stars shone and used to seem real.