1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown

5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb