1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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