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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