1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
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
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14the best of all things to an end must come
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