The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
It's one of many horrid happenings
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
When dried the terrapin can naught express
With gravity at gravity's great cog
Watching manure and compost coalesce
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum