1Prose took the minstrel’s verse without a squeeze
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5It’s one of many horrid happenings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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