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Saturnalia of the Seas
When the trumpet sounded everythingon earth was preparedand Jehovah distributed the worldto Coca Cola, Inc., Anaconda,Ford Motors, and other entities;entailed tides and saltwater currents to SSL
marketing itself to the jubilant percussionof steel drums and sunblock-slicked pleasureof Calypso and dark rum, and when swelledwith the takeover of independent cruise lines,demanded marine infrastructure and tithesfrom the tourist-desperate ports of developing nationswhere sweat-shop labourers long for the freedom
of the red smokestack conga line employing unregulatedovertime and tip skimming but room and board, allmedical expenses paid so experienced diasporics flockfrom the South China Sea: slender bar staff femalesswinging waist-length locks, male machinists, paint-spatteredsailors and disaffected galley workers grateful for toil
and pale English-speakers lured by cash-paid earningscycle through Spas, Casinos and Duty Free shops the UK, True North, South Africa and the Eastern Block marginalized laissez-faire ants hustle, hustle, hustleas obnoxious vacationers down cocktails with secretextortionary fees, and after eat-all-you-can buffet,belt out ear-numbing karaoke, serenading late nitebody gyrating discotheque affairs
under flags of convenience Saturnalia disembarks,vessels brim-filled with souvenir-glutted tourists,Cadillac-cushioned backs turned from local sunsets,from Indigenous eyes following their departure,willing the return of fun ships to their paradisal horizons.