The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
The bull's horns ought to dry it like a bone
His toga rumpled high above his knees
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
An icicle of frozen marrow pings
The nicest kids for strickiest toffees crave
The genealogist with field and fess
In indian summers Englishmen drink grog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb