1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4while sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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