1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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