The Sky That Doesn't Make Any Sense

Tonight’s sky is lawlessness

Honestly, it’s just a holy mess

A thousand clouds of all kinds

Pushed and smooshed to one side

Elsewhere

Windswept whites mixed with grays

Against baby blue, it’s never been this way

Yet it is, it exists, exactly as it was made

Sunset

With a golden orange resonance

Plush and pleasant

But

It doesn’t make any sense

But heaven invents it's own sky

It is logical because IT decides

Although an artist would be chastised

Had a painter put this on canvass

A critic would place it in the trash

That or simply use it to wipe his ass

I imagine the retort of the artist, The Stratosphere

As to why he placed this there or put that here:

“Your critique is quite confusing

Cuz I created this FROM and FOR my own musing

I painted it to prove

I can do

Whatever

The fuck

I want to!

Some become artists to make something new

To break all your rules!”

“This Sky and I

Are

Enormous

Gorgeous

Chaotic Ecstasy

Owning

Our Identity

Being

Only

What we want to be”

Every once in a while, things are at their best

Exactly when they do not make any sense

Tonight’s sky arrived to give you permission

“Make your life according to you own volition”