#119 Santiago’s Skiff 

 

“I might not be as strong as I think,” the old man said. 

—Santiago, The Old Man and the Sea, Hemingway 

 

The end arrives again

     but life provideth what is needed, 

     thank Almighty God,

     who’s been a better friend to me

     than I to him. 

The Old Man and the Sea

     will try to resurrect the spirit  

     from the sod,

     to break this horse

     of hopelessness. 

I cried in silent awkwardness

     the first time that I read the book

     in Quentin ’99 — 

     the heavy weight

     of monstrous human pride

     is truest felt inside

     a nineteenth century four by eight,

     exacerbation

     in its purest definition. 

What a window to the author,

     prose as unrepentant harbinger. 

The ocean’s unknown wideness

     sometimes seems analogous  

     to lines of endless opportunity

     toward gratitude,

     if only —

Well, … if only everything. 

The mermaids sing us shoreward,

     guest on Santiago’s skiff,

     whose brutal journey

     severs us from Hemingway forever,

     levelled to his core. 

 —Eastern Oregon Correctional Institution, 8.7.21