1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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