1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6signalling gauchos very rarely shave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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