1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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