Danes complaining IKEA are degrading theirs
The names of Danish towns now names of carpets, rugs,
and what’s worse the joint (Swedish) ØRESUND strait
is now a toilet seat. Your blackmail cost me three Swedish
bowls at Sunday discount, two sleepless nights on the
four-post OSLO. Did they name their floor coverings
in Danish in honour of their flatlands? At least you don’t
need to piece those together – no one will scream:
the hell with this ROSKILDE! short of a nut.
Others suggest that it’s something to do with the
Mohammed Cartoons (to spite Denmark?). Random lines
of letters covering grammars of mass destruction, beds
and wardrobes christened in alien, Norwegian forms,
veiled in fields of geometry. Choosing a Dane to shop
at IKEA with is borderline experience – dividing a room
with a LINNARP will be agreeable solution, at least until
we are ready to sever with curtains and duvets, agree who
will take the MYSA MANE and who the HEDDA RUND.
I LOVE YOU AND YOUR CAR
I would blow
a whole hundred on you at the milk bar.
We would eat through a sea of tomato soup
and leave the dinner ladies 99zl in tips.
I’ve always wanted to meet Varga,
Krzysztof.
Knowing that he never replies,
I sent a review once
of a certain jazz record
to a newspaper where
he was Editor of the Culture Section;
Dear Madam, one needs a truly vast mind
to understand your review.
It’s incredible how one can lie while admitting one is right.
pdf EN/PL here
