1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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