museum-quality orgasm

the museum shelf upon which the orgasm sits
would be twenty feet long
the shelf would be made of thick glass
the shelf would be propped up by big glass blocks
everything would be behind lots of thick glass
and all the glass would be spotless

the orgasm itself would be
yellow like the sun
at noon in a cloudless sky
and even though the glass case would be tinted
the glow from the orgasm would
still light up the entire
room   all the
visitors would be visibly aroused
no one would say a word
but they would pant
like dogs
gasp for breath
like spent horses
nostrils would flair
everyone would walk away slowly
as if angry
as if in a jealous rage

everyone would want to own it
and those who had never thought of
stealing
would think about theft
and think about theft
and think about theft
until they all became
disgusting,
bitter, horny, little
bastards.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my chapbook Museum Quality Orgasm, published by Future Tense Books in 1996.)