1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The genealogist with field and fess
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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