1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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