Some devils looked upon the lights
of angels in the night’s blue air,
and said to one another there:
“Let’s rob the fair, deface
the profound, and place
these lights on the ground.”

So up they flew as the night grew cold,
the sky bought in, and light was sold
to the ground for the sound of cars
in a valley of concrete, and steel bars
carved by rivers of wide awake.

The ground began to bend and shake
as pillars rose to fill the air,
then further to ensnare the eyes
who then became the spies of smoke.

Now early morning has awoke
too early, all the ***** dust
is kicking up and down the street.

The clock struck one, a sun so new,
the day brings so much work to do—

for very soon, the clock strikes two.