1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6that metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14in cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
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