There was ice cream and you screamed.
Everybody screamed and a black gown
Decided no more of ice cream together.
A divorce would seem the fitting finale.
Second wedding called ice cream from
Emperors of ice cream, three inch high.
Horny on ice cream or a whipped curd?
No one is emperor except on ice cream.
Wedding or divorce, he whips a dream.
(Emperor of ice cream is an echo from Wallace Stevens’ poem by that title)