I found a pair of angel's wings
nailed to the door.
With feathers, falling, molting slow
trickling to the floor.
I dreamt I saw the devil's things
drifting to the shore
On seashell-foam, twas all aglow
and floating to the moor.
I wakened, and the sea was gone
it flowed into the sky
the sun was bright, could not be drenched
it was hot and white and dry.
I left the dream and moved right on
the sun was getting high.
my thirst for hunger has been quenched
my devils vanquished lie.
I walked towards the angel's wings
they glimmered in the light.
I yanked their nails from the crack
that zigzagged wrong and right.
In the distance I saw Saturn's rings
and the sun, with glorious might
I nailed perfection to my back
and soared in bleeding flight.