1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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