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.