The acid tongue with gourmet's expertise
His nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
They both are right not untamed mutterings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
Watching manure and compost coalesce
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
They're kings we're mammal-cousins hi ho hum