The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
When dried the terrapin can naught express
With gravity at gravity's great cog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum