The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
The Turks said just take anything you please
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
The fertile mother changelings drops like kings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
The peasants's skirts on rainy days she'd tress
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
Watching manure and compost coalesce
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum