the new world

at sea for months
on end,
you give columbus
the evil eye
as he stands
on deck
with telescope
in hand. he is
dressed in his
frilly purple
bloomers and feather
hat. what the hell
you mumble
underneath
your breath
which smells
like codfish
and cheap wine.
you could use
a shower, some
soap and hot
water. you've
been shaving
for months
with your belt
buckle and the cuts
are all infected.
you can't eat
another piece
of fish, or salted
dried lard.
the brochure
said an adventure,
a luxury alternative
to sailing.
discover new worlds
and be a part of
history. you want
your money back,
you say to yourself,
wait until you get
home, there will
be hell to pay,
then suddenly
someone yells out
land ho. you move
to the front of the
heaving wooden
vessel and squint
towards the green
splotch of
land. you yell
out boldly
that you are going
to eat the first
live squirrel
you lay your hands on
when an arrow
hits you in the head.