A la Depeche Mode, We’re trained in several logos and media  
theologies; 
 
Hey it’s obvious as that mobile device you’re still holding.  
Hands down. We live on the ground, off the land.   
 
The culture caught up to our light sprinkles of sexuality.  

We chew to 1 side, noted by 3rd genders;  
Superego abstractions hanging out in their unusual white corridors  
 

Suggesting we’re still trembling from the  
 


Physical chew off, just a short chopper ride  
 

From the first bank and trade. It’s sprinkling, adding up feelings  
With a so tallied mother glossary, 1st-  
Order noncommercial phenomena pitted together as cognates  
 
Still coming to seed and adornment,  
Half-audible ricochets, feeding us like a lawn.