1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11on wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
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