1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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