the sky is actually the floor of Heaven’s Barber Shop.
The clouds;
clouds are the freshly cut hair of the gods strewn across the divine barber’s floor.
The pole;
a tornado is the barber pole, therefore the Midwest is the entrance to Heaven’s Barber Shop.
Scissors;
lightning is the sparks that fly when the divine barber clips the electrified hair of the gods.
The wind;
the wind is the divine barber’s broom sweeping up the clouds.
And planes;
planes are lice; even our gods are lousy.
1 comment:
the hair was wonce gray it may have been long and flowing it was hair for sure but as it fell form the black handeled sissors each stran became a rubber duck in pirate garb intent on clogging
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