shopping list, folded in the middle

time standing like a dinosaur
poised to pounce,
as the sexy big-dicked country boy
sucked on mark's big schlongy
hard pumping dick.
the sexy big-dicked country boy
and
his cousin mark
only did this the one time,
and then it was over,
a thing of the past,
never talked about ever
ever again between them,
or to anyone else,
as far
as
the sexy big-dicked country boy
knew.
now,
the wind moving the willow leaves
and their long feral branches,
the sexy big-dicked country boy
is a man, with wrinkles
on his face,
and memories inside
his warm moist brain
that skitter and spark from
brain-ridge to
brain-ridge, and
fire like pistons, as
if still having the
very best time of their
little wet pink lives.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book Gorilla Architecture, published by Interior Noise Press in 2011.)