Robin Amy Bass


Smorgasbord… strikes a chord…
All that ice-cream I did hoard
On those empty winter nights
When we had our big time fights.

All the anger we both felt;
One more notch upon one’s belt.
But those days have drifted by;
Summer’s here – I rarely cry

I just wait to hear your voice
When I do – I just rejoice
Think of what is gone and done
Think of what is just begun

In the icebox I have stored
Flavors that have been ignored
So I offer you a taste
This stuff is too good to waste

On a glutton or a prude
Permit me please – a blunt and crude
Phuckin great – when it’s hot
Me and ice cream – hit the spot