1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive
9The genealogist with field and fess
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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