From rubble build a bubble.
Squash and squeak without delay.
What good can come from trouble.
A circle’s on its way.
Let it lie till worms squirm over.
All bricks should mend to dust.
Crumble them and cover.
Be sticky in creamy lust.
Then watch them curl crispy.
Sweet and sour to the tongue.
Chomp away tongue-risky.
Eat that sweet on the run.
From the rim extend the cone.
Narrow it to the point.
Creamy ice licks to one.
Sheered destruction dribbles on.