Itallian Ices (and Itallians I have Loved)

The pistachio ices were liquid emeralds

And cherry ices were noble rubies

And at the zenith stood purest lemon

Gustatory diamonds that sparkled like seas


The frigid fury braces, heralds

Electrifying ecstasies

The brilliant colors like a felon

Seize Christmas lights for July jamborees


The icy balls like ballistic billiards

Sting intestinal estuaries

It roots out like a tenacious talon

The bloated stomach’s complacencies


The ice is reckless, raw and ribald

Like hoodlums happily shooting the breeze

Like a sentinel it will summon

Summer’s rapturous melodies


Copyright, David Gottfried, 2002


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