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100,000,000,000,000 poems
The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
That suede ferments is not at all well known
The frisian Isles my friends are cherised things
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
Thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can't depress
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
But I can understand you
Brogher Gog
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
Soliloquies predict great things old chum
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