“I’m always content,”

Miss Gamelon declares to Miss Goering

in Jane Bowles’ Two Serious Ladies,

“because I  know what to take and what to leave,

but you are always at the mercy.”

We too felt Miss Gamelon’s disapproving gaze upon us

our first night in Reykjavík

at that bar, Boston

where we tried too hard

to enjoy conversations

that stopped and started like bumper cars

with strange strangers.

Skagaströnd, Iceland–Johnny Cash’s low rumble fills the cozy, lacquered log cabin interior. The charred aroma of meat on the grill filters through the air and carved wooden Native American figureheads flanked by cowboy hats bedeck the walls. An elderly white haired man dressed all in black shuffles out of the kitchen, slowly up the staircase.