The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
That horders of crooks felt they'd more right to own
His toga rumpled high above his knees
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
They both are right not untamed mutterings
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
Fried grilled black pudding's still the world's best yum