1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2his exaltation shocked both youth and crone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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