1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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