the sea
has invaded
a small corner
of
the ship’s lounge
just below
the fancy tables
staking claim
to
all onboard
a salty residue
a reminder
that
we shall
all
return to the sea
from which
we emerged from
at
the beginning
of
time
after
a blood pressure rising
shopping outing
to
costco
i
dropped by
aunt bea’s
to
share
a few items
i
thought
she might
enjoy
aunt bea
said
i went
there
once
but
decided not
to
return
since
i almost lost
a limb
reaching for
one of those
free samples
they
pass out
seems
the fellow
behind me
hadn’t eaten
for the last decade
and
was willing
to
kill for
a vienna sausage
he pushed me aside
like
a cruise passenger
disembarking
after
four consecutive sea days
it took
several days
for
the bruises
to heal
i still
find it strange
that
our humanity
can be
reduce
to
primal behaviors
with
such
low-level
pavlovian
stimuli
tourist items
manufactured in china
for
the local market
replicated
indigenous art
sold in
riverbank stalls
by
part-time natives
natives
carving out
an existence
in
a one percent world
complaints
issued
by
travelers
who’ve
already
sold their collective humanity
they are
the commune
of
anesthetized day-trippers
who
outline
verbally
over
an air-conditioned lunch
the crass nature
of
indigenous commerce
commerce
that
replicates
the
world
that provided
their passage
to
this
riverside
market
off
the boat
onto
the buses
port terminal
a sea of plastic coated
tour offerings
tantalizing leaflets
held
by
desperate hands
of
the local economy
fishermen
fishing for survival
casting nets
of
visual promises
to
tourists
seeking
a realistic taste
of
an imaginary life
found
only
in
brochures
published
as
bait
digital chum
tossed
into an internet sea
