The End of the World
    by Douglas Gilbert

An ice cream volcano in Iceland erupted.
Nobody knows why, but hordes
brought spoons and whipped cream
’cause they all know
free ice cream rules, but

machetes on sugar cane
aren’t needed anymore with many
confectionery states going bankrupt
but if anyone fears the beans
of the vanilla, fears the seeds
of the strawberry and a new flavor
with swirls and sprinkles, fear not

because all can look
to the skies with glee
to hear honey bees buzz,
and know

unidentified flying cows have been seen,
their moo’s seeming mournfully sung, but
when their guffaws blow out of ice cream cones
the walls near blueberry fields will fall
and pistachios will be unshelled

Oh have you not seen
there is no more shelling
and I hear the trumpets triumphant

Oh glory be the syrupy dawn
the caves are full of chocolate.


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