me llamo es diego

as i wander

this new country

picking up

words & phrases

hoping for customs

& cheaper prices

that locals occur

then

i meet up

with the blond

everything changes

she looks scandi’

they see her

as different

& me being with

must be different

too

no longer

can i play

at being diego

i must be a viktor

or pietr

fascists from

an older war

& the prices

courtesy for locals

disappear

these are the things

that i forget to thank

the blond for