At snuff no Cornish sailorman would sneeze
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
It's one of many horrid happenings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
In salads all chew grubs before they've wings
Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
When dried the terrapin can naught express
With gravity at gravity's great cog
Watching manure and compost coalesce
But I can understand you Brogher Gog
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb