The Swedes are smart.
I own a Swedish car.
I tell my six year old daughter
It is the only car ever designed
For safety first and foremost.
She seems suitably impressed.
I drive it defensively.
With Ikea they have taken it
To a profound and mystical level.
We surf its physical intranet
Follow the yellow brick road
Through the hut of duckness,
Pilgrims in this brooding sepulchure,
This tin skin duomo of the home.
They understand us.
They know what we want.
Not what we desire, which is piffling,
But what we need, what we crave,
A place of safety, the safety capsule
Of my Volvo, a refuge
For the lost herd, the craven horde
In our serried ranks with chins held high
And our eyes shining brighter
Than bunnies in a picture book,
Or a lurid Maoist poster.
We drive our trolleys all the way
To the check-out and salute,
Credit cards raised to tap in triumph.
- Larry Buttrose