THE FUTILITY OF OUR MINDS
by Jonathan Chisdes
Mister Softee rang his bells
on the South side of the City
of Brotherly Love. The children
ran to buy his ice cream and one
child came to take. In the summer
heat, he put a gun to
Mister Softee's head, demanded
the money, pulled the
Loosing consciousness, blood
spreading. The little children
laughed to see such a sight.
Grabbing ice cream bars. "Mister Softee's
dead," they sang, "Free ice
cream for us all. Hooray,
hooray. Ha, Ha!" "He
never gave enough sprinkles," shouted
a little child. She'll lead
the mocking chants for
45 minutes, until
Ding, Dong, Mister Softee's dead.
He had been on the job only a
the Inquirer reported. Mister Softee had immigrated
from Iran, left a wife and three
kids, three kids who didn't
laugh. This city where it all
began, that proclaimed the only
emperor we'd have was
the emperor of ice cream,
has now brought us to this
on the streets of Philadelphia.
Based on an incident of June 15, 1994.