AIs must not take human jobs yet
Cloud design lay open
My first efforts sketches
Peonies and penguins, but
My puffing cigar
Set me in the sky
Yet my floating Mt. Rushmore panned
Past presidents touchy and pouchy
Soon technical problems near took me under
Thickening air costs pots of money
And colors? Who can afford sky blue?
Still public acceptance rose
Film star, tech titan commissions
Eliot lifelike with his Magritte pipe
Until the oil painters rioted
My Manhattan sized Last Supper sanctioned
Though the Rothko skies rated reliable
Once we found the right red
Now many wish to sculpt with clouds
We cooked up a master’s program
Funded fully by fossil fuels
Who knew they were so generous?
Teaching and writing stuffs your coffers
But one’s heart seeks the farthest horizons
My next gig Venus – the goddess planet
Netflix will produce
Hot and hellish, but great gusty winds