1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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