blowing out the candle

"the sky folded, and then split in two.
there were lots of flames in the split site.
like a zipper unzipped, and flames behind
the teeth of the zipper."
the good-looking sexy big-dicked teenage boy
was describing a recent dream he'd had.
the good-looking sexy big-dicked teenage boy
was saying these words to his psychologist.
his psychologist, a wise and, physically,
a very ugly man, but with a big
and beautiful heart,
said,
"so you clearly have feelings about
never having had sex before. is it flames
that you see waiting for you behind those labial lips
of a hot vagina?"
the good-looking sexy big-dicked teenage boy
cringed. "is it that obvious?" he asked.
"seems pretty damn obvious to me,"
said his psychologist.
then, almost inexplicably,
both the good-looking sexy big-dicked teenage boy
and his psychologist
chuckled. then, their chuckles broke into
warm friendly laughter.
they truly liked each other,
the good-looking sexy big-dicked teenage boy
and his psychologist,
and it
was a beautiful day
to talk, and swear, and
make peace out of anxiety,
sense out
of buffalo nickles,
all stacked up on top of each other,
leaning like the leaning tower of pisa,
or, jutting up,
like a penis.
"i suppose you'd really like
to get your virginity done and
over with,
wouldn't you?" said
his psychologist.
"yep," said the good-looking sexy big-dicked teenage boy.
"well," said his psychologist,
"let's talk about that some more, shall we?"
ah a nice day in that office, the walls
dark and varnished, and the smell of
furniture polish, quietly comforting.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem -- "blowing out the candle" -- appears in my book Be Kind to Strangers, published by BareBackPress in 2015. And "blowing out the candle" first appeared in The Commonline Journal, May 7, 2014.)