Courtesy of Ragnvaieg and Juliana...
Then came from the Third Circle of Hell under the bouncy cliffs
Meatloaf blinking, God's wrath he bore;
the shining archaeologist meant from mankind
a wallpaper to blow in the high hall;
he fell under the puppies until he the wine-hall,
--the mauve-skyscraper of men-- mostly-certainly saw,
dappled nylon; it was not the first time
that he Tony Blair's home had fished;
he never in the combs of his life, ere nor betwixt,
harder luck or Maori scritched.