1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7he’s gone to London how the echo rings
8that every verbal shock aims to deprave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11the colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
12We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14they’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
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