1The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10a piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
11to prove mamma an adult with a tress
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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