1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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