1When one with t’other straightaway agrees
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8the nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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