Calculi

Brimming with rum, Claude grew sleepy in the sun

and conked out in the hammock strung between the elms.

The afternoon being unseasonably balmy,

the earthworms surfaced and spread their blankets.

They unpacked their picnic baskets and passed around

the dirt sandwiches, uncorked bottles of bubbly mud champagne.

Being creatures comfortable with slime, they didn't dive for cover

when it started to rain, even though the droplets smelled unusually pungent.

Had they eyes, they would have noticed that the shower possessed

a definite golden sheen, as it was, in fact, Claude's urine,

sprinkled liberally across the grass, Claude being too drunk

to stumble inside, or even bother to aim properly.

Indeed, the oblivious invertebrates cavorted merrily 
in the downpour, that is, until it turned to hail.