Kickass in the fog

Kickass, the doorstop dog, with apologies to Carl Sandburg, offers the following:

The fog came wearing muddy boots,

Slithering in like a bad idea,

Camping in the consciousness,

Like outlaw weather on the lam.

But it is only that, a meteorological

Grayness punctuating the sunshine.

So why now does it seem so political?

So pitifully dispiriting?

So indecent?