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100,000,000,000,000 poems
The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
His nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
He bent right down and well what did he seize
And empty cages show life's bird has flown
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
In purest cradels tha's how they behave
Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can't depress
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
Soliloquies predict great things old chum
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