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
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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