When the old auntie died there was ice cream .In Key West when someone died the emperor of ice cream whipped a dream.But her feet jutted out of the white sheet and she hardly ate any white cream.
Her feet had bunions all over and the smiles left from the fan tails of her finest and prettiest embroidery .There were three glass knobs missing from her dresser .
There is only one emperor and only of the ice cream .Here ,he dispenses three inch high ice creams slices , in weddings and subsequent divorces. First comes the wedding where he whips a concupiscent curd and everyone screams. Then come black gowns who serve the large ones and are dark like divorced nights. Everyone screams an ice cream.
(This morning we read Wallace Stevens poem The Emperor of Ice cream)
The Morning is Just a Dream 