The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
While sharks to let's say potted shrimps are prone
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
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
The wolf devours both sheep and shepherdess
With gravity at gravity's great cog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum