The Sealess Captain

I am the sealess captain.

I have my senses set in place

so I can understand the waves and

feel the oncoming thunderstorms,

but only throughout the mainland

since surrounding me are seas of

land, concrete, and blacktop.

I am the sealess captain.

Even with unmatched maritime skills,

I’ve been exiled in the desert.

My captain’s suit, each day, is

losing its courage.

I am the sealess captain.

In each instant, my mind

wrestles with whales

and courts new continents.

I awaken later

to sojourn alone in the

garden Gethsemane.

I am the sealess captain.

Like the oceans flow,

I direct solely the essential emotions

who are wicked laborers,

always wanting to convolute the others.

I travel up the stairs when they go down,

I drink soda pop outside

the church of “Our Lady of Solitude,”

what a melancholic name for an

institution of hope.

I look for the loose change in my

pocket, knowing there will be none.

I make the sign of the cross,

and afterwards I leave to

sin throughout my existence.

I am the priest that does not believe

but will admit this to no one;

I have to be of assistance and help

numb this dream.

In my mind, I take refuge in

the river Mezcala which is my Caribbean sea.

Its fishes are whales,

and its protruding rocks are

new continents.

I am the new Christopher Columbus.

The doves are airplanes 747

flying toward all places.

I am the sealess captain.

If I wanted to be Cortez or Qutzalcóatl,

I could not be so.  I am air inside a closed jar,

and the precise air I need is on the outside.  My eyes prefer

to not look out through the jar’s 360 degree window,

my jar is, each day, shrinking

more and more.

I am an old person without a church,

a cripple without crutches,

the sun without light,

a chauffer without a vehicle,

a song without melody,

cement without sand,

a streetlight without electricity,

a student without school,

a believer without God,

a tree without roots,

a youth without rebellion,

a mosquito without humidity,

the immense night, without stars.

I am…

                …the sealess captain.