At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
Replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
Which neither time nor tide can long postpone
Old Galileo's Pisan offerings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
We'll suffocate before the epilogue
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
yet from the City's pie pulled not one plum