To Illogical Conclusion

"A signal from our body (sic)
Can change the very thoughts
We think." Oh pronouns,

I don't mean to mock you,
And I don't need to play games,
But you do. The very thoughts of you

Are both forever we and forever me.
It's sick. The signal never comes
From one, communal body,

Although every multicellular
Body is as much communal as one.
There is no we that isn't me,

No me that isn't we. You,
On the other hand, I can't
Compel or speak for. Signals

Followed my bliss. You'll see.
I'll raise you, then. We're tangled
In skeins of curse-slicked grammar.

"Where's the pony in my horseshit?"
Asked Al Pacino, interviewed.
I'm sorry, famous Al, but there isn't.