Ann Keiffer

A Little Ice Cream Never Hurt

Last night I went to bed with a hot fudge sundae.
I laid down and the sundae in my belly felt like
a Humvee packed with anvils parked on my solar
plexus. Inside, all my little furnace-stokers, insulin-
makers, fat-wranglers, circulation-pumpers and
cholesterol-making sleaze bags were sweating and
cursing, forced to labor at their work long past
quitting time. But they set-to with their crushers,
fire-bombs, acids, siphons and flushers, and finally
got the Humvee reduced to rubble about 2:30 AM.
and I could finally fall asleep. But when I woke in
the morning, I found my tiny gut-crew had sausage-
wrapped my belly with fluorescent yellow crime-
scene tape and posted a sign that read in giant type…
No Parking! Hot fudge sundaes, this means you!

Ann Keiffer
January, 2014

Image: Google Search


About Ann

I am interested in the strange beauty of brokenness, in transforming possibility in difficult times, in how we heal even when we can’t get better, in the alchemy of surrender, in the interplay of light and shadow, in the bounty of everyday wonders, in the gift of laughter…and writing about it, all and everything.

Recent Poems

Buy My Book