1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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