1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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