1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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