Part Two: THE EMPEROR OF ICE CREAM

Call the roller of big cigars,


The muscular one, and bid him whip


In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.


Let the wenches dawdle in such dress


As they are used to wear, and let the boys


Bring flowers in last month’s newspapers.


Let be be finale of seem.


The only emperor is the emperor of ice cream

Take from the dresser of deal,


Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet


On which she embroidered three fantails once


And spread it so as to cover her face.


If her horny feet protrude, they come


To show how cold she is, and dumb.


Let the lamp affix its beam.


The only emperor is the emperor of ice cream.


Wallace Stevens

This column has


A hole. Can you see


The Queen of the Dead?


George Seferis


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