1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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