1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The genealogist with field and fess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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