1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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