1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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