Two poems


now that's an existential moment

brightly shine the little stars at night.
the sexy young man lies naked on his back,
staring up at them while he masturbates.
just before he cums, he rolls onto his
side, and spurts his cum off into the grass.
then, he rolls again onto his back, and
stares up at the stars while his big cock
droops and gets flexible again.  he
smells the scent of the night air (soil
and warm wispy dampness) and the scent
of his own cum (acrid, musky, fertile).
he watches a bat gliding and dipping
as it tries to catch insects. the sexy
naked young man cannot tell if the bat
is catching any insects or not. it is too
dark, and the insects are just too small.
the sexy naked young man curls and uncurls
his toes. he touches his nipples, first
the left one, then the right, and
feels just a bit astonished at how
hot his own body feels at the touch
of his own fingertips. then he remembers,
and that's when the calmness really settles in,
midnight, summer, the middle of june.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book Riot Act, published by Chiron Review Press in 2010.)


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

museum-quality orgasm

the museum shelf upon which the orgasm sits
would be twenty feet long
the shelf would be made of thick glass
the shelf would be propped up by big glass blocks
everything would be behind lots of thick glass
and all the glass would be spotless

the orgasm itself would be
yellow like the sun
at noon in a cloudless sky
and even though the glass case would be tinted
the glow from the orgasm would
still light up the entire
room   all the
visitors would be visibly aroused
no one would say a word
but they would pant
like dogs
gasp for breath
like spent horses
nostrils would flair
everyone would walk away slowly
as if angry
as if in a jealous rage

everyone would want to own it
and those who had never thought of
stealing
would think about theft
and think about theft
and think about theft
until they all became
disgusting,
bitter, horny, little
bastards.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book Museum Quality Orgasm, published by Future Tense Books in 1996.)