1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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