“And it was light on the first day.

The clouds are as white as those in the painting of Christ’s Ascension into Heaven at Sunday school. That was how I saw God when I was a child. As something big, something white, as if God were an empty space above the clouds. Now I don’t often think about God any more, but at that time I’d never been above the clouds, never been in the clouds. I’d always wondered what it would feel like. Standing on the ground with my head tilted, watching the aeroplanes leaving their braided signatures across the sky. Now I know what it feels like. Now I know what it feels like to be in the clouds.

Like nothing. Like death. Like light. Like everything.

Strange that clouds which are so flat from underneath can be rugged peaks above, or perhaps not peaks. It is more like floating through a milky way of cakes. Coconut slices. Pieces of meringue. Stale cream full of lumps. I take it as an omen. America is not a smorgasbord. It is one enormous cake dish.”


Someone's always coming around here
Trailing some new kill
Says "I've seen your picture on a
Hundred-dollar bill"
What's a game of chance to you,
here is one Of real skill

So glad to meet you, Angeles

Picking up the ticket shows there's
Money to be made
Go on, lose the gamble that's the
History of the trade
Did you add up all the cards left to play
To zero

And sign up with evil, Angeles?

Don't start me trying now
Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh

'Cause I'm all over it, Angeles

I can make you satisfied in
Everything you do
All your secret wishes could right
Now be coming true
And be forever with my poison arms

Around you
No one's gonna fool around with us
No one's gonna fool around with us
So glad to meet'cha, Angeles