This is River Monsters, mate, and I'm like Jeremy Wade
Helping myself to dates, while I'm lying in wait
Along the Strait of Rhymes, waiting for someone to take my bait
What can I say? It's three quarters to eight
Looks like no one's ready to be put on a hot plate and made irate
I'm Alexander the Great and I'm conquering this "poetic" estate

With words that are as venomous as a krait
Let me try to actuate you to think of rhymes to create
But you're not thinking straight, this is MY trait, you're too late
Heading for the home plate, around it I perform a figure eight
Although I don't skate, heh... Hey, your pupils are dilate!
Guess you didn't know, being inundate with my words was your fate

This is all you're able to tolerate, I estimate. It's not going to abate so when you're ready and you can relate, come find me, I'll be lying in wait.