review

the magenta green nature of the ice
on the smooth slick pond
belied the true nature of
what was being covered up:
the body that floated beneath
in a kind of cold-induced lullaby:
naked, male, young, pink.
it was shocking, really,
the calm tranquility of his
expression under that smooth
slick ice. when he opened
up his eyes and pushed his
fist through the covering,
shattering it, banishing
the tranquility, and climbed
out onto the surface shivering
and shaking like a big blonde
dog, easily 6 feet from
top of head to sole of foot,
it was apparent
that the approval level
of the audience went way up,
and the geiger counter readings
shot through the roof. after
all that, the triumph
of the naked, the ascension of the young
and the eerily sexily beautiful --
it's what they all wanted, really,
deep down inside their dark little
barely-beating hearts.

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