A ******'s life

Looking at the map, I have been to most countries 
that have seaports but no time to explore work  had
to be done whether it was Monday or Sunday
I have crossed many seas. The Pacific Ocean had 
long, deep waves, the Atlantic Ocean had sharper waves
while the Mediterranean Sea could not make up its mind 
The Black Sea wasn't blue and looked darksome; the ship
was stuck on ice flakes
The country we ****** preferred was the USA
we could get our shopping done and buy stuff for
friends at home, shops stayed open longer
A Russian town had a beautiful avenue, but otherwise
a city shrouded in darkness
I lost my heart to Guatemala, beautiful beaches near
the docks, a nation of friendly folks
Haiti, Port-au- Prince where Papa Doc ruled with his
brutal men dressed in flowery shirts, sunglasses
eager to shoot at anything that moved
a place where portholes had to be closed for the stink
What I remember best was in Nagasaki one afternoon
I had two hours off work and noticed how few people
I met it was as if they were still in shell shock 
In a courtyard, I came across the graves of Portuguese
****** who had died of the pest 200 years ago 
far from home, died of an illness, I grieved for them 
The evenings in foreign ports were the same bars
and women of ill repute ready for a small amount
of money serviced the ritual of ***, so one could be drunk
go back onboard for a few hours of sleep