1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4and loudly sang off-key without a tone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7such merchandise a melancholy brings
8victorious worms grind all into the grave
9Platonic Greece was not so talentless
10with gravity at gravity’s great cog
11from cool Parnassus down to wild Loch Ness
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
14and lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
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