1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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