1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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