1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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