1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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