1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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