1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
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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