1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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