the neophytes

there was the day that he came home from work
to find milk on the floor, raisins on the ceiling,
bits of toasted bread stuck to the walls.
**
it was of course the first day of spring.
**
and, like any other sexy good-looking big-dicked
young man, he broke down and had a good cry.
**
then came the invasion of the alcohol-induced
lazies; when the telephone rang, it was his
best friend tom. tom was young, sexy,
skinny, and hot. he invited tom right
on over, and then the two of them shared
the alcohol-induced lazies there on
the couch with some porn.
**
things of an intense and highly personal
sexual nature occurred between them.
these sorts of things had occurred before.
but they both continued to downplay the significance.
**
when tom left, the apartment became, once
again, very very quiet. crumbs, once on
the floor, migrated to the walls. lights
flickered.
**
spring. spring. spring. the first
day, the month of june not the longest,
but surely the most supple.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book String Bean, published by BareBackPress in March 2018. And the poem first appeared in Zygote in my Coffee, Issue 112, February 1, 2009.)