1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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