1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
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
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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