1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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