Get it together, believers,
Your religion promised farces
And we can measure the delivery:
Not here, not now, not going to happen
Therefore, come with me,
I swear to you, I am no prophet,
Nor seeking its homophone
What I desire is to feel with you
Impassivity and non-interdependence
Are rife across our former hand-holds
We must carve into the rock's face
More I's and noses to feature usness
Where do wee mortals start?
At the mailbox park street corner?
In the schools offices hospitals?
Necessity or choice; compulsion or calls?
Pick up any one in themself: it won't go anywhere
But connections are rampant
As we use our duplicate organs
To see and hear and touch
Roman Ryan 