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
4with cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
5The roundabout eats profits made on swings
6rejecting ermine to become a knave
7in salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
10shallots and sharks’fins face the smould’ring log
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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