Coherence

I can be coherent
Like a drunk on Sunday morning
When he has to he can
Make it to the church

I can be irreverent
Like a preacher lusting, leering
With my sermon, words just
Floating on the wind

I can be a martyr
On that cross you see me writhing
Is there someone who can guide me
From this tomb

I can be connected
Like a telegram or modem
But I prefer to lie here
In the dust