1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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