Nature is a farce, a parse of a liverwurst
so unsound as a sausage
as to saw sage into tracts
of hand demand. Oh yes,
the natural, a thing untouched by
things, so resonant with its own
ring as to develop without interference
from anything so dirty as dirt or
hands. Ah, artifice, a thing so chemical
in its makeup as to make a clown blush.
Such unreal things are as mythical as
thoughts and feelings, componentry
of this world that can only be said
to exist if you believe your mind.
Show me a person. I'll show you nature.
Think me a thought. I'll think you concrete.
Roman Ryan 