Call the
roller of big
cigars,
The
muscular one, and bid him
whipIn
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 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, 1923.