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100,000,000,000,000 poems
When one with t'other straightaway agrees
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
He bent right down and well what did he seize
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
The genealogist with field and fess
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum
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