1Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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