Lit Brick #789: The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
 
As J. Alfred Prufrock projects himself across what I can only assume is the astral plane, he observes a yellow fog. So much yellow fog, everywhere. Anywhere. It's against the doors, the windows, the streets. What's in the yellow fog? What's it made of? As theorized above, it's probably spirted seaman out for vengeance. Or it's just vaporized pee. But it's definitely one of those.