1The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7a daring baron pockets precious Mings
8in purest cradels tha’s how they behave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
12With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
13though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
14fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
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