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)