Watching the Hurricane

Yeah, so a bit ago, I got it in my head that I needed to try my hand at spoken word performance.  I like to speak, I like words.

And I worked pretty damn hard to generate what's below, and was proud of it.

But at the end of the day, the problem with me doing spoken word is the sound of my own voice.   I'm just not a fan.

A friend asked me to publish it, in written form.   If noone else reads it, I hope he does.     If you do read it -  Hope you like it...

Watching a Hurricane

(slow, calm) It starts out as a minor disturbance, a mere ripple in a weather sea,

Someplace far, far away from your life.

(a little less chill) A bit later, it becomes a thing, it’s..noted.   

"Hey, everyone."  (point off into the distance)

"There’s a thing."

Way, way, far away.  But… it IS now a thing.

(a bit more excitement, speed up a bit) 

And now, now it’s a slightly bigger thing, and it’s not quite AS far away, and if keeps up like this, someone’s gonna name it, and shit'll be real.  

And it does keep up, and becomes a bigger thing still, a real, bigger... thing.

With a name.

And that big, real thing with a name certainly has your attention now as it continues to grow, and make its’ way slooooowly in your direction.   

You’re watching the hurricane.

And you are powerless in the face of it.   

(a bit faster, excited, fear) You watch As it grows bigger and stronger and more inevitable.  And you’ve nothing left but geography and luck, not wanting harm to befall the the island of St. Whateveritscalled, but sorta hoping it does get hit, because then the hurricane will weaken and… 

(dejected. slow down.) 

Shit. 

It missed the island, and the one after it.

And the one after IT.

(a bit panicky) And now it’s in the gulf, and it’s, it's… feeding, it's feeding and picking up strength and ferocity and… you just watch it come.

And you are powerless in the face of it.

(with increased intensity and urgency) But you follow the protocols and shut down your office, and board up your house and hoard drinking water and you decide

(exhale) to embrace the inevitable.   

Might as well.  It's inevitable.

(you're in it.  sound like it)  Then, as you watch, it’s upon you, and you’re awestruck by it’s, it's… hugeness, and you're aware of your place in the universe as the sound and fury swirls around you. 

(sad) You are tiny, so very small.

And you are powerless in the face of it.

And then...  it’s gone.   A weak, tired thing, wandering inland, away, spent.  

(pause.   whew!)

(intense again) You WATCHED and you WATCHED and you FEARED and made such a thing of it and it’s…done.

(emotional) You are battered and in need of repairs, and you know it’s gonna take a lot of time and work to fully recover but you ..SURVIVED, goddamnit. 

Not everyone does. 

You stand in your house, with the roof half gone, water running down your walls, and you are grateful that you got off light.        And you sit in the dark, waiting for the power to come back on so you can tell people you're not dead.

And your mom, a safe 900 miles away, tells you she had been watching the hurricane, too, and “You should have seen it!”   and you roll your eyes because – your mom.

And you start to get on with your life.  But you know there’s always going to be

Another hurricane to watch.

Sometimes, a hurricane isn't actually a hurricane....