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So long, and thanks for all the fish!

The Screenwriter

John Cusack in the Raven

Once upon a deadline fast approaching, screenplay ideas I am poaching

Over many quaint Criterion Collections of forgotten lore

But then I remembered a place to look, a long forgot and gory book

It’s filled with liars and with crooks; with princes, murderers and whores,

The adaptation will be breezy, gaining the rights will be easy

I’ll adapt From Hell by Alan Moore


With my agent, the idea I’m broaching, apparently the thought’s encroaching

Someone else has made this movie before

I’ve never seen it at the movies, theater-goers are quite choosy

Even when it’s late and boozy. Alright I said, I’ll look some more,

But Johnny Depp we should use for sure

With the ladies he’ll be quite a score.


Or what of a book by Washington Irving, there’s a story much deserving,

Of a retelling never done this way before

Make the lead a detective, though he won’t be too effective

A crime is his directive since the original tale’s a snore

Get Tim Burton, I implore, a director Goth kids all adore,

And he’ll do great with the décor.


My assistant checks: that’s been done too! What’s next?

I wonder as I raid my nearest liquor store.

As I’m praising my bottler, I remember Lloyd Dobler.

John Cusack’s career has gotten to be a bore

Goth him up, you can’t ignore a look he’s never done before

With pale makeup in every pore.


We’ve got the cast, I need a subject, something easy to direct,

And to save money we’ll shoot offshore.

What about Edgar Allen Poe? There’s a subject that’s obscure,

Something about a crow, but no one knows for sure.

Plenty of material to explore, Why so literal I implore!

Let’s take his life and fill it up with gore!


I wrote it, now it’s bought, Poe fans are all distraught,

It’s the loose adaptations they abhor.

His life was very full, there was plenty of material to pull,

“Why a script with so much bull?” Those die-hards all will roar.

“I don’t care,” I tell them all, it’s not you I speak for,

But my wallet empty, nevermore.

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