1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3he bent right down and well what did he seize
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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