Ftrain, by Paul Ford

I wanted to get the lime pop home and up to my room, then undress it from its plastic foil wrapper and put it in my mouth. I know that seems obviously metaphoric but it is not. The relationship with the lime pop is not one of consumption and control but of internalization. I want to be the lime pop, to feel what it feels, its arctic coolness, not to subsume and control the lime pop. Were there a way to experience the lime pop without destroying it, I would do that, and I would seek to preserve its green essence.

There was no way, and I couldn't wait. A few steps from my building I pulled it from the paper bag and shredded the wrapper, reveling in the sudden presence. I was half-finished when I arrived at my front door. I was no more dignified than a dog. My teeth rang out in my skull, struck like little bells by the popsicle's cold and sweetness.

-- Ftrain, 2002