Cottage cheese & garlic
mashed potatoes clouds. The scintillating sky in
alternating blue and white, like some wondrous flag. A sunny flag of
blue-white love, gray with pockets of tears. Blue showing through tears
in the sheepy white foam, sleepy blue and slurry white, snow-white snow
trailing dwarf clouds in the tiny forests of the sky.
The sky is made of blue
tin, over which are drawn gigantic flotillas of
industrial cotton, pulled by tame snowmen. It's a reverse surface, like
the bottom of a pail of water spun over the head. When it's time for
spacecraft to exit, gangs of snowmen with headphones on rush in
coordinated throngs to peel back the tin sky with giant can-openers, tin
snips, hacksaw blades, anything they can get. A "falling star" is
a
flash-weld good thing they're so diligent, or monsters would creep in,
like nightbugs through a left-open screen door.
Stars? Their streetlights.