Necropolitan

Not your ordinary ice cream, though the glaze of these skeletal figures affects the disposition of those grinning candies one finds in Mexico, say, at the start of November, though here, each face is troublingly familiar, exhibits the style adopted just as one declines any further style—nectar one sips just as he draws his last, dispassionate breath, becomes citizen of a less earnest electorate. One learns in that city finally how to enjoy a confection, even if a genuine taste for this circumstance has yet to be acquired, even if it is oneself whose sugars and oils now avail a composure which promises never to end, nor to alter.