1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2the bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4that suede ferments is not at all well known
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
10in indian summers Englishmen drink grog
11the country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14the bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
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