1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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