1At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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