1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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