Formulaic conveyance,

Each step of the way,

With programmed patterns,

Robotic arms,

Outfitted with pincers,

And cutting implements.

Each drone,

Making clones,

With their own tasks honed,

Couldn’t do it alone.

Though it lacks the imagination,

And dizzying whimsey,

Of his creations,

Rube Goldberg would be proud,

That his machinations,

Weren’t so far-fetched,

After all.