1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave

9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress

12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum