1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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