The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
The understanding critic firstly sees
And empty cages show life's bird has flown
It's one of many horrid happenings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
The genealogist with field and fess
What things we did we went the whole darned hog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum