1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
4that suede ferments is not at all well known

5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave

9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address

12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
14the best of all things to an end must come