(Two men, one an architect, sitting next to each other on a subway train). 

Architect:       Pardon, but aren’t you an engineer? 
Poet:              (smirking) Yes, why do you ask? 
Architect:       I want you to build this. (produces scrap of paper, scrawled-upon). 
Poet:              (scans, pauses briefly) It can’t be done. 
Architect:       What? Why not? 
Poet:              Gravity. It’s a real downer. (chuckles). 
Architect:       Very funny. I thought you guys could do anything. 
Poet:              Within reason. 
Architect:       But look at this. It’s perfect in every way. 
Poet:              Exactly. That’s why it can’t be built. 
Architect:       So, you’re saying it’s impossible. 
Poet:              Yup. 
Architect:       Necessarily? 
Poet:              (pedantic)That’s what ‘impossible means: a goal we are unable 
                       to achieve due to a necessity which can be neither altered nor defied. 
Architect:       Like God or something. 
Poet:              Or something. 
Architect:       So, the impossibility revealed in this sketch is evidence 
                       of the existence of God. 
Poet:              (suddenly uncomfortable) Did you say you were an architect?