1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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