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
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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