Fantasie of the Boatman -- by Alex Ranieri

Let every man praise God, who remains on the shoreline.

Reserved for the great sinner, must be the punishment of the horizonless sea—reserved, for those marked out in infancy to descend off the canvas of the great Painting of the Judgement.

O Lord, by what way have I traversed here, into the wasteland of your Judgement? What sin of mine was so great, that you took me aside from my mother and father, from my brother and relations, to chastise me alone, in that desert vaster than any desert on land?

I have lived like many others—I have sworn falsehoods, I have spoken out in anger, I have not reined in my tongue, I have never killed a man. Why do they rest in the great cities, in the sweet countryside, why do they eat the fruit of the tree and the beast of the earth, while I cannot rest for the sound of the black water—while I am tossed from all dreams by the sea, and salt, and hard tack are my tastes of your bounty?

O you, asleep on the land of your fathers, praise God.