1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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