a bad
person?
who knows?
it's just rumors and hearsay
at this point.
stories passed
down by disgruntled lovers,
kings and queens,
sailors grumpy
about the weather and food
on board
the creaky wooden ships.
did he bring
measles to the islands,
venereal diseases,
a bad attitude?
maybe. perhaps.
but that's what sailors do.
you try and sail across the ocean
eating
dried meat
and crackers for six
months,
sleeping next to some guy
who snores
with his peg
leg continually clicking
against a leaky floor.
sure, he was lost, and had
no idea where he was half
the time.
but so am i.
i couldn't get around these
days without
my phone telling where
to go.
he had his finger to the wind,
a rusted sextant
and the stars.
but he got here, so leave
his statues alone.
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