1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave

9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum