1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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