Headache

The downpour is like
a single sheet of water
pressing hard
against the windshield.
Landmarks on the way
all look just alike to me;
there is an impenitrable sameness
that comes when the light
is everywhere.
I push on, confident the road
can't go anywhere
I've never gotten home from before.
In the meantime,
headache is such
perfect affliction.
I must somehow deserve it;
otherwise, 
it would be wasted
on the righteous.
I press on,
knowning sooner or later
all the rain will have
finally fallen;
I press on knowing
it can't possibly go on like this
too much longer.