There are two countries that I love very much.
You probably could guess them: America and
I’m kidding with the second one.
I like to be a stinker.
Nothing against Sweden — it's superb over there
But my heart belongs to Denmark.
The quickest way to piss off a Dane is to tell them
You’re obsessed with Sweden.
That’s sort of like moving to South Dakota,
& telling the folks there that you’re obsessed with
When it’s really all the same.
I have a hard time telling the Danes that I love
It’s like a 15-year-old trying to tell her mom that
She loves her. True as it is, it’s hard.
She’s pissed you off too many times.
So you mumble the words to her,
“Yeah, I love you Denmark. Whatever.”
“I don’t know how to live without you.
But sometimes you’re so hard on me.”
“Sorry for calling you those names, and telling you to
Sometimes I misbehave just to get your
I’m callous and bitchy, and you’re an easy
Target. You just flash me back your tan smile,
Then lower your head. You’re way too polite
And modest for me."
"You don’t let me get away with my old tricks.
You’re so fresh and plucky beneath your
Shy demeanor. I can’t get close to you because
I don’t get you.”
The truth is, sometimes I feel like a girl without a
Country. That’s how Americans perceive
Canadians: “90% of You live within 90 miles of our US
Border, but you’re not Americans. So what are you?”
I use words that are elitist and annoying, like hubris
To describe that tendency of ours.
I want to option a script for the Coen brothers called
“No Country for Old Menacing Chicks” but I don’t know
What it means, to option a script.
I like to make up words, like perplexion...which is when
You have a perplexed complexion; red, ruddy cheeks that
Hold a contemplative position seconds longer than
Like this poem.
Happy Valentine’s Day, Denmark.
Will You Be Mine?