If you get a good one, nobody can tell.
We all grew up surrounded by them,
Carved by masters who spent eternity
Working the kinks out of the material.
Light snow the dandruff of a gray-headed day.
Our robot vacuum cleaner gets caught
Admiring itself in the mirror.
Even Jesus on the cross likes to look
At born again virgins on the internet.
I don’t know, I don’t know, I say to my fake
Watch that keeps perfect time.
Someday I’ll give it to a bum
So he can remember to feed a dog
He taught to play dead with one eye open.
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