The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
With cherry-pips his cottage floor is sown
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
He's gone to London how the echo rings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
With gravity at gravity's great cog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
With breaking voice across the Alps they slog
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum