searching for land

sometimes
you feel like
a sailor
on a ship
asking Columbus
where
we are
and where
are we going.
we're low
on chick peas
and we're tired
of cod fish.
we haven't seen
a lick
of land in
months and everyone
is sea sick,
home sick,
and sick of
the scent of
brine.
maybe the map
is upside down.
maybe the stars
have shifted.
I need land soon
Columbus, or
else.