The wild horse champs the Parthenon's top frieze
The bull's horns ought to dry it like a bone
The Turks said just take anything you please
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
O Parthenon you hold the charger's strings
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
They're kings we're mammal-cousins hi ho hum