1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14soliloquies predict great things old chum
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