1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave

9The genealogist with field and fess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness

12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum