The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
The learning linguist cameramaniac sings
For burning bushes never fish forgave
The fasting fakir doesn't smell the less
A piercint wit would sprightliest horses flog
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
No need to cart such treasures from the fog
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb
And lessors' dates have all too short a sum