The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
Old corned-beef's rusty armour spreads disease
'Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
They both are right not untamed mutterings
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
The fertile mother changelings drops like kings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
The genealogist with field and fess
And starve the sniveling baby like a dog
On wheels the tourist follows hos hostess
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb