Home > Poetry > Ice Box Bandit

Ice Box Bandit

Resent not the pleasure I take in cold milk,

taken straight from the ice box.

It was dark and I was thirsty,

and it never tastes the same in a glass.

The best things are always a little dangerous.

I will be discovered

that’s part of the allure,

I am hungry always for your gentle derision.

But do not me think dull,

I know your cough is a ruse to hide your laughter,

and your furrowed brow,

a thinly veiled form of praise.

I know this story ends with a milk mustachioed kiss under the stars.

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Categories: Poetry
  1. June 20, 2010 at 3:45 am

    How sweet…and very much in the spirit of “This is Just to Say”…nicely done.

  2. tillybud
    June 20, 2010 at 5:52 am
  3. June 20, 2010 at 12:40 pm

    things straight from the ice box and coughs hiding laughter: these are really great details!

  4. June 20, 2010 at 3:53 pm

    I love the intricate detail of your piece. The ending gives the story a perfect ending.

  5. Deb
    June 20, 2010 at 10:18 pm

    I love this!

    I will think of it every time I catch my husband drinking from the carton!

    (Reminds me of that famous “last peach” poem.)

  6. June 21, 2010 at 3:47 am

    I absolutely love this!

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