1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4’ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10what things we did we went the whole darned hog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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