catch that wave

my baby waves
a gesture so tiny
it greatly rewards
the lucky who see it

"are you amplified to rock? are you hoping for a contact?" -gbv

the clouds are ten thousand miles high. they are steel and sculpted by an organically minded madman. the colors eat their way up them like beautiful corrosive acids. no rainbows here. just piles and piles of junk heaping to heaven and the sun devours them from below.