Mother Earth is Complaining of a Fever (Winter of 08)

Or so I’ve been told.
To me, it seems she’s got the chills
like a junkie going through withdrawls.

The trees in my backyard are shivering
and I want to help her feel better but what can I do?
I’m no nurse, no doctor. I’m not even a scientist.
I’m just a product of society,
apathetic as the rest.

I woke up this morning thirsty as a desert,
with an albatross decomposing around my neck.
Everywhere I look: the ocean
is knocking at my rocky door.

I think I’m too late.
Mother Earth seems long gone with dying
but I’m no mariner. I’m just a man
floating in an upside down reality.
That’s all; a man
that lives in a simple house,
drives a simple car to a job I hate,
past factories of smoke, cement buildings,
and a million other people just like me.

Still, we go about our lives thirsty,
drowning our sorrows in oil.

With our albatrosses round our necks,
We tell ourselves, it’s only a dream.
But none of us believe it. Not really.