1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Their sculptors did our best our hulks the clog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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