Exfoliate yourself on pumice beaches. Cull
nostalgia over road sign typeface and the shape
of cars. Avoid the bars. Forget stars. Carry dull
and folded copies of your national eidolon. Vape
greenhouse kush with wan and greasy skull-boys. Too high
at brightest midnight in a viking graveyard, lose
sight of friends and sleep on top of skeletons. Buy
enough beer-boiled pylsur (with the works) to lose
the Arctic mythos under onions and béarnaise.
Gain fifteen pounds. Nearly drown in hot pots. Binge
on Nordic tongues. Swim in their spit. Meet all the gays;
pronounce their names just wrong enough to make them cringe.
(They'll fuck you anyway.) Land on one, love with him,
then part for home with no admission. Fear
that mawing Katla aims to make you ash. It's grim —
but you're American and wont to disappear.
Samuel Wright Fairbanks … (2019)