Ode to Gelato


You don’t choose the gelato—

the gelato chooses you–

its vibe stirred in by the maker.

Ciccolato Fondante

Extra Noir sings out to Jim

and opens our concerto.


Caffè for Barbara. One shot,

two? She warbles a vibrato.


“Cheer me up,” Tiramisù

Quavers Katie, rubato.


Biscotto Della Nonna

Paul croons in his falsetto.


Ciccolato All̛ Arancia

kicks in Carol’s contralto.


Sweet and tangy, Limone

calms Ross’s crescendo.


Honored guest, pick your gelato.

Pistacchio, Crema, Peach?

Just belt it out, staccato.



Se non è vero

è ben trovato.

Even if it is not true,

It is well invented.

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