The King eats here
The Swedes tell me
In a restaurant in Old Town,
All the patrons with cell phones
Pasted to their heads,
Talking to God, I decide,
Making reservations –
Given their propensity
For suicide,
Which they always cite to visitors.

I ask my friend Lars about the best bait for trout
And he says Nobel,
You light the dynamite
Throw it, wait for the fish to float up,
A more practical way
Than one fish at a time.

I ask a businesswoman
if she would like
A Linie,
the aquavit
That travels on ships
across the equator
To give it time to cure
Into marketing cache.
She says she prefers to go around the world
In bed, this being
Less expensive, more immediate
We Swedes being a frugal people.