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Ridicule

Gout that strives at you manages pleasure,
Due to homogeny of ridicule on the side.
Danger of honest honey matters most,
Gout arrives forming a honeycreeper.
This illness I confine to the organs
Envelops my mind most, then my feet and joints.
I am hominoid like the blessed men and women,
Piercing us with pleasure, pictures so pickled
With distaste of picnics.
Piety is the taste of death that gout brings,
For we are deathly on the side of angels
That caress the objects we design,
And there is more ridicule to come.

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