A storm rolled in
not a metaphorical storm
but a real one
and now its anger
layers the heavens above
one heavy dark layer
atop the other thick
black atop heavy grey
one denser than the
other like the mood
of most drunks sitting
sullenly at the corner
stool of the neighborhood
bar their despair growing
as their glasses empty
until at last thunder
erupts following their anxiety
slowly staggering home bound
poorer and poorer still