Adaptation has many stories And when I've watched too many movie trailers Each line will more and more closely resemble Mass market drivel That is a literary elitism sort of perfection-seeking Dashed off at the end of a crumbs day, microwaved Syllables are narrators, a choir who never sing simultaneously Baritonic & gin, let it rip up the last sober months Shadow the tomorrows with hangsover To sleep on and in a pile of dirty clothes Some portmanteaus were not meant to be worn Only invoked, by right and by rote, under a clarity Whose glasses had their prescription last checked A hundred thousand years ago