The Flood – a poem by me

Funny little anecdotes that people say when you’re having trouble,
small things, meant to give some relief or acknowledgement to what is ailing,
sometimes wholeheartedly and sometimes flippant, but intention is there for something.
Like, when it rains it pours, or this too shall pass, or take comfort in the small things
all meant to benefit the receiver with some form of comfort.
But what I would say to you is
“I’m going to build you an ark”
because you, my friend, are in the midst of a flood of biblical proportions
and there is nothing that I can give you to hold back the waters.
Moses, get your fucking ass here now and part the seas!
Noah, get to hauling some trees up in here
cause the sky isn’t falling but filling with this water
and unless you’ve got gills this isn’t gonna be pretty.
Forget about the morter and the paste to hold the foundations
the sails, the weather vane to predict when it’s all gonna be over
hell, just make it float. 
We just need it to float.
No need to find some way to phrase it pretty or make it make sense
it has no sense at this point
Wild, wicked endless water is pouring in from all directions
and it’s dirty, useless and good for nothing,
except maybe for us to all label it definitively,
it’s a whole lotta fuckin’ water.
Let’s not have them drown with our anecdotes and smart things to say.
Make some floatation devices with kind choices of words
because in this kind of weather, I can’t build you an ark
I can’t give you anything that can bring a relief to what is ailing you
not even a wise word of wisdom because in biblical proportions you have received that water that drowns the whole earth,
been swallowed up whole by a whale,
locust have invaded your lands and killed the crops,
and the tide keeps taking you out way beyond the shore.
But I can still see you out there in the horizon,
dog-paddling, sometimes floating on your back,
sometimes swimming against the riptide,
and that’s when I realize
you are your own ark.

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