Gorge rising from the site of the pork

as nauseating as plated raw stork.

He lumbered Rourke's way,

replied with "Okay,

but first cap this port cork with torque!"

Spinning to see Michael Rourke

sidewalk dining tenderloins of pork

“For Cosplay? No way!

Your reference is passe!

Go paint yourself as an Orc!”

Wobbling down streets of New York,

recognition-born gasp as a fork

fell to the ground, then a howl like a hound,

“Didn’t you shrink to a Quark?”

There once was a man from New York,

who drank only wine stopped by cork.

Port-drunk one day, yearning Cosplay,

he left, drink in hand, dressed as Mork.