Think of Me

The gale, it whipsAt this stilted house I’m inAnd tears the rails from the porchThe palms play limbo, their heads shot backBy the strength of the fearsome wind

And here in the darkOf my powerless houseWhere the silent air hangs heavy and wetWith no book left unreadAnd no beer left undrunkAnd some Oscar Mayer hamFloating in the slosh of a coolerI sit with my bourbon,Warm and neat,Listening to the plywood on my windowsFlex and bow in the gustsAnd the coconuts plummeting on the tin roofLike little milk-laden bombs

It sounds like a train,Everyone saysWhen a hurricane blows at your houseBut to me, it’s more hauntingWhen the palm fronds slam togetherLike a hundred clattering swordsAnd you hear your home, your lifeCreak and moan under the windsAnd the sight of the GulfOr a salty canalSlowly consuming your lawnIt’s the false sense of peace,And that fraudulent calmAs the eye slides over your townAnd just when you feel at easeThat’s when it all starts again,The winds, the rains, the trees thrown aboutThe waters surging up like the angry ScamanderAnd all the while I wonder

Faced with the feeling of being stuckIn a place you thought you lovedAnd realizing that it,Now dark and hot and silent,Filled with empty beers and no books left unread,Offers you nothing butThe terror of being trapped andA claustrophobic kind of depressionAs the humid air draws salty sweat from every poreAnd the world outside is blown to ruinAnd you, up in Georgia,Safe from it all...

Part of me hopes that this storm prevailsAnd drops this house to the groundThey’ll find me thereAlone in the rubbleSurrounded by my beer cansAnd all these booksWhich can distract me no furtherAnd if you read about that--About me in a paper--“Florida man perishes in storm,Accompanied by all that he drankAnd all that he read,”Would you pity me then?Or would it simply evoke a strained sighAnd some strange sense of closure?

I know in my heart,While these winds rip at my wallsAnd I guzzle my whiskeyAnd you’re safe and sound,That you don’t think of meBut part of me, somewhere in here,Longs to believe that you do