Wheels are heavy against aluminium floors
Breaking barely touched brand new pencils
Animals and machines move on all fours
Angels are static, their wings come from cheap stencils

In search of the lost grail
A sip from the chalice
Breadcrumbs along the trail
and a teacup for Alice

Repenting on paper
After taking a life over a banal motive
Homemade glue can’t take vapor
I’m almost done chiseling my votive

A fragile sugar sculpture
And another made of salt
Polarizing twins, a rupture
Of the nucleus at fault

This week’s overnight sensation
Has a familiar face
A passing resemblance but no relation
To the one she replaced

Tonight she’s playing with the band
Covered in golden paint
Tomorrow she’ll have vanished, never to be seen again
A corrupted, impossible saint