The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
His toga rumpled high above his knees
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
Nought can the mouse's timid nibbling stave
The learning linguist cameramaniac sings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum