1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
3the showman gargles fire and sword with ease
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6with sombre thoughts they grimly line the nave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
13with marble souvenirs then fill a slum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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