Tres

greguería

Arquitectura, Carro, Diana, Formas, Números, Ojo

A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
A piercing wit would sprightliest horses flog
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
And lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
And let you off from your opinions glum
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
And starve the snivelling baby like a dog
And yet ‘twas he the beggar Fate just flings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
At five precisely out went La Marquise
Bard I adore your endless monologue
But I can understand you Brother Gog
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb?
Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
‘Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
Filching the lolly country thrift helped save
For burning bushes never fish forgave
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
Fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
He bent right down and well what did he seize
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
He’s gone to London how the echo rings
His exaltation shocked both youth and crone
His nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
His toga rumpled high above his knees
How it surprised us pale grey underlings
In cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
In purest cradles tha’s how they behave
In salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
It’s one of many horrid happenings
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
Nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling save
O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
Old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
On fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
Replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
Signalling gauchos very rarely shave
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
Soliloquies predict great things old chum
Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
That horde of crooks felt they’d more right to own
That suede ferments is not at all well known
The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
The colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
The fertile mother changelings drop like kings
The geneologist with field and fess
The leaning linguist cameramaniac sings
The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
The nicest kids for stickiest toffees crave
The peasant’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
The Turks said just take anything you please
The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
They both are right not untamed mutterings
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
Th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
To break a rule Brittania’s might might waive
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
Ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
Watching manure and compost coalesce
We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
Were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
What things we did we went the whold darned hog
When dried the terrapin can naught express
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
When one with t’other straightaway agrees
Where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
While sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
Whiskey will always wake an Irish hog
With cherry pips his cottage floor is sown
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
Yet from the City’s pie pulled out not one plum

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