1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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