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100,000,000,000,000 poems
The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
His toga rumpled high above his knees
And empty cages show life's bird has flown
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
The peasants's skirts on rainy days she'd tress
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
And lessors' dates have all too short a sum
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