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The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
The answer is they could be twins full-grown
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
And yet 'twas he the beggar Fate just flings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
And starve the sniveling baby like a dog
The colonel's still escutcheoned in undress
Whiskey will always wake an Irish bog
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
For Europe's glory while Fate's harpies strum


Raymond Queneau

Translation to English by Stanley Chapman
found in "Oulipo Compendium"
Atlas 1998, ISBN 0-947757-96-1

Idea and implementation by Magnus Bodin 1997
Produced in the wonderful country of Sweden.