1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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