1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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