I trumpet the triumph of the trifling trite,
it has become mans' legacy.
I hail the halcyon harbingers of the hackneyed,
they proclaim our future.
I create cobbled caverns with cornucopia corniness,
a vegetative state called bliss.
I champion the champignon chumps chomping
at our proverbial bits and bytes.
I elevate and elucidate the illustrative alliteration,
it has become our salvation.
I assimulate and ascertain the asinine,
knowing it followed us from the past.
I compound the confound and profane profundity,
wishing it would clear my mind.
I insulate and insinuate the initiate ingrate,
he is my worst friend and best enemy.
I expect the inspecting of the insect infestation,
to be our guardian angels.
I vacillate on the volumes of voracious volcanoes,
warning our very being.
I sense the cents of scintillating scents,
stinking up the universe.
I sorrow 'til tomorrow
for to borrow the borough,
of regret for cryptic crypts.
I channel Chanel number cinq challenging,
even Nostradamus's platypus.
I echo the excrutiation of electric ecletics,
who arrange my very existence.
I belay over those berating banishing banality,
becoming a victim of my own rictus.