Expatriate Vappu Festivities in a Small American Town
On the sidewalk, Anna coils herself
like a flag around a pole, charming sober tourists
of their pocket change. I am videotaping this cheap party trick
and occasionally snarling, Hyvaa huomenta!
(Good morning in my Finnish, where the sun must be rising
on Havis Amanda, the champagne-soaked mermaid in Helsinki
square.)
We slough on a cigarette-pocked bench and guzzle more
olut from a plastic bottle,
hiccuping in our secondhand sailor hats, then
launch ourselves adrift in the pork slab
of Asheville, North Carolina, as far east as my waitress wage would get us,
dully chanting perkele, perkele, perkele,
the most powerful curse word in the world,
which simply does not translate.
like a flag around a pole, charming sober tourists
of their pocket change. I am videotaping this cheap party trick
and occasionally snarling, Hyvaa huomenta!
(Good morning in my Finnish, where the sun must be rising
on Havis Amanda, the champagne-soaked mermaid in Helsinki
square.)
We slough on a cigarette-pocked bench and guzzle more
olut from a plastic bottle,
hiccuping in our secondhand sailor hats, then
launch ourselves adrift in the pork slab
of Asheville, North Carolina, as far east as my waitress wage would get us,
dully chanting perkele, perkele, perkele,
the most powerful curse word in the world,
which simply does not translate.