1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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