1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone

5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8to break a rule Britannia’s might might waive

9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes

12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum