1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14the best of all things to an end must come
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