1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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