The Norwegians Will Pick Me Up

I like Transtromer, and they will want to

Herald me and take me to their cold climate,

Yelling and dancing it up and pouring liquor

Down my throat, all of us ripping roasted meats

In a gigantic unending banquet, and then a moment

Of silence is called and I am compelled to say

A spontaneous piece:

“Oh Patrons,” I grovel, “I love you filthy beasts!”

(a murmur from the crowd)

“And let me assure you I relish your astounding

display of pagan enjoyment…that there is room

for viscous viscera’s viciousness in the play that

is the thing. So, well done! And, on with the show!”

Stunned…(a not uncommon Norwegian thing)…

they let me get away with it and pay all my expenses.