Short Uric Poems

J-oy's
O-pen
A-rms
N-icely
N-egating
E-mbrace

O-f
L-oneliness
A-t
Y-our
B-eing's
A-uric
R-oot

©bfa062025
Monocrostic (Birthday of Joanne Olaybar)...

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Enter the emerald tunnel at dawn
Before a sultry blanket of tell-uric air descends,
Follow the metronomic drip
On which the symphonic faunal orchestra depends

World Heritage renowned
Immersing in uniquely tantalizing scenery
Diminishing beyond repair
Emerge then from entangled greenery

Beside a crystal cascade
Rest a while, meditate
Plunge into the icy pool
Let nature's beauty rejuvenate....

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My sympathies are with anyone who suffers from gout.
It is painful and disheartening without a doubt.
It happens when levels of uric acid increase.
Inflammatory arthritic pain in the joints never cease.
A long list of different drugs are taken every day.
Anyone hopes the medications draw the pain away.
Such a condition can put anyone on the shelf.
I know, because I suffer from it myself.
...

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Whenever programs are cultural,
Zatu's thin voice richly cultural,
All his speech pauses the junctural:
Not what hearers might term The Natural...

But should it not be unnatural:
Sessions with The Supernatural?
Zatu's clear words soon esoteric,
Strange attacks by The Enteric
Bla - Bla - Bla: a final Uric
Prayer for oil-wells with derrick...

After culture Thin Voice is back:
The Guttural he starts to lack!...

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I knew when sparks flew
From my brand in her cavern,
The friction-lit dark
Fanned the impotent fires;
The charring of juices
Hot, uric and spicy,
Flowed a lateral tango
And the hairs sluiced with life.
With a breath of exalting
The dream turned to torture,
Collapsed in a gnarling
Of dust from the grind;
When done only dying
With memory and meat-hooks
Simmered down upon skin
And the night embroiled vengeance....

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The ancients honored you in their cultures
Mythology crowned Jataya, King Of Vultures

Obligate scavengers, you conduct your foray
Toward putrid carcass of what will be your prey

Dead bodies, prairie dogs, rodents, wild boars
Insatiable eclectic pallet opens many doors

Vomit, your defense, your uric acid searing 
Hunched backbone, broadened wingspan so fearing

Here they soar, the vultures who seldom kill
Just scouting about for their carrion meal...

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She has a fever.
I leave her dozing fitfully on the veranda.
Halfway to the woods there is a farm gate
where she will often squat
and piss.
The grass is brown, but still thrives,
strangely adapted to uric rain.
Paris the giant poodle is here,
his nose a rapier seeking past and present.
Several dogs from good families arrive
to vie with each other
in search of her ‘wherefore art thou?’
Tragically, Romeo (a bulldog neutered last week),
today plays alone
with his squeaky bone....

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