1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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