1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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