1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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