dinner time yet

in this phase of your life, you are a
beautiful sexy naked smoldering big-dicked big-eyed boy.
today, you
throw yourself down on your bed and weep.
you are sad, you are disillusioned. you are sick
with nebulous and generalized grief.
you are a
beautiful sexy naked smoldering big-dicked big-eyed boy
and yet,
yet, you are all of this unhappiness.
you are miserable.
your beauty is not enough.
it hasn't helped you in any way that has
brought you meaning, peace, understanding,
tranquility.
you want to die.
you lie on your bed weeping.
you, at this phase of your life,
a beautiful sexy naked smoldering big-dicked big-eyed boy,
unhappy and sick at heart.
**
years later,
you are a little old man.
you think back to how beautiful you were.
you have the photographs to prove it.
a little old man now,
you are constantly sad,
and wonder what it all meant,
life, your former beauty,
your ignorance of how everything
worked, or could be made to work,
how everything just kind of slipped
by, and left you here, now,
a little old man,
achy, finicky,
and
bewildered.
**
you are now flecks of debris
adrift in the winter wind.
it is snowing.
the sky is quite gray.
**
pottery lasts for thousands
of years.
i like the vases that have
drawings of sexy naked greek young
men running races together,
their dicks
flopping saucily, up, and down.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appeared in Chiron Review, Issue #101, Fall 2015.)