Raspberry Swirl

What a scam

I remember thinking 

The first time I was introduced 

To swirled ice cream 

Prior to that

All I had known was 

Chocolate, strawberry and vanilla

Plain, solid colours 

The swirl was very pretty indeed 

Dancing gracefully in the snow 

Leaving behind a trail of passionate pink 

A special surprise 

Like no other kind 

Yet all I wanted was 

Pretty and pink

And wondered 

If only pink could flood the entire pint

Then I would have delight in every bite 

The sparing swirl just didn’t satisfy 

What I had in mind

What I didn’t realise

Was how cream curtains 

The sweet sour brightness 

A poor understanding of flavour release 

A passionate preach for 

Homogeneous compromise 

Mixing together 

Those that shine brighter

Distinct 

Jagged profiles 

Destroyed

By averaged garbage 

An attempt to normalise 

Every spike and niche

Resulting in bland and meek

Often even more expensive 

Because nothing is tailored 

To the individual experience 

In customised wonders

I believe 

Pleasing the smallest crowd

The peculiar units 

Freed from the general 

That never ever applied 

To the specific 

Where we all actually 

Spend our seconds

In the specific 

We breathe

In the specific 

We bleed 

In the specific

We are alive to celebrate

The raspberry swirl 

A frugal genius 

As I now see it