1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2for tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
3the understanding critic firstly sees
4normal one aims to be and share the throne
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7an icicle of frozen marrow pings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11watching manure and compost coalesce
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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