1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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