1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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