1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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