Prisms flash off icy sputum hawked by an angry sky whose knees knock with cold Every spicule sharp as curare dart and just as poisonous to exposed flesh Glowering clouds bunch their eyebrows into a frown of refusal to pass on by Tongues of fog lick at the windows, slavering like big, drooling guard dogs Tiny pixels far below deny their humanity as they slip from fog to building to sidewalk Their movements jerky as old movie film Lethargic light limply extends its fingers, but they will not puncture the gloom At dawn of time it was the same atmosphere, only now skyscrapers loom instead of mountains Still the oppressive feeling seems old as time It is a day for a good book and a long nap A day for inertia of body and soul alike It is an offering from the gods of dissipation Suck sweet chocolate between the teeth and think lewd thoughts without giggling Wrap up in cozy blankets, burrow down Emerge only when the mood is gone