1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown

5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?