Four poems


pollen lampshades

"in the kingdom of
the banana milkshakes," says
the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy, wandering
the
pungent mango-scented aisles
of the all-natural supermarket,    
"we must accept only the finest."  and,
as the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
wanders the aisles in
the kingdom of juice and
pain, insanity waves its
dismissive arms, and anxieties
scatter like bluebirds.  "oh let us manufacture more
organic pumpkin pies," says the
sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy,
"for paradise is but a pineapple stellar aspiration to
be gently inhaled," he says,
as store management becomes aware
of the naked boy situation there in aisle 6,
their vocal cords buzzing like
buttery bumble bees, the gently
extracted nectar of the exclusively
grown elusive organic pomegranate
the only vaguely subtle road to
all that sweet jesus honey.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in Chiron Review, Issue #103, Spring 2016.  It also appears in my book String Bean.)

============================================

big-boned

waddling on the brink of obscurity,
the sexy college sophomore boy
decides if fame has eluded him so far,
the only thing to do
is strip naked and run on the university
sidewalks until he is stopped by
the proper authorities.
as a result of the act of running naked
and getting stopped by
the proper authorities, he's sure
he'll get all kinds of
attention.  and that he will be
obscure no more.
so, on a warm sunny day,
the sexy college sophomore boy
strips naked and begins
his run along the sidewalks, making his
way between the crowds of giggling students
trying to make their way to class.
he is noticed, and soon
he is picked up by the cops.
they make him get dressed and charge
him with indecent exposure and
tell him he'll be appearing
in court for sentencing.
he's set free on
his own promise to show up
in court, and not to goddamn run
naked no goddamn more.
back in his dorm room,
his roommate says to him
"what a jerk you are! what
an idiot! why the fuck did
you run naked across campus?"
the sexy college sophomore boy
replies to his not-so-sexy
college sophomore boy roommate:
"i wanted to be famous."
this sounds so funny
that both of them burst
into laughter, and,
from that moment on,
what had been a rather shaky relationship,
at best,
turns into a heartfelt friendship,
that stands the test of time,
a court date,
a fine of $500 and community service,
and
what soon quickly becomes
the
road to obscurity, after all.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book String Bean.)


===========================================

open window

on some pornographic websites, i see photographs of
guys pissing on each other.
these guys are cute young men (often
VERY cute young men),
and they seem to be having such fun pissing
on each other,
there's this look in their eyes,
kinda giddy, kinda wild, actually,
and they certainly give the impression
that pissing on each other is just
another way of having good clean sexual fun.
**
once, a long time ago,
i was in bed with a guy who asked
me to piss in his mouth.
so i did.
turns out i squirted so much pee into
his mouth that
he wasn't able to swallow it all
and
some of it dribbled down his chin,
and it was, well, sorta icky.
i was drunk and stoned at the time,
and i didn't think he was all that attractive,
and, well,
i guess the whole experience
wasn't very much fun for me,
and i kinda got the feeling
it didn't turn out to be so much
fun for him, either, since
i pissed such an unexpectedly
large volume of pee into
his mouth.
**
but the sexy good-looking naked
young men pissing on
each other in those
website photos sure look
like they're having fun.
**
sometimes i think
back about various things
i've done during my life.
various sexual things.
i'm sure most people
do that, from time to time.
think back over things
they've done.
things they wish they'd
done.
things that they'd have done
if they'd been given the chance.
things they might
still do,
perhaps in the
bathtub, so the
mattress won't get
wet.
**
not that a wet mattress is
the worst thing
in the world.
**
still, though,
i think
ya know what i mean.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in BareBack Magazine, September 2014. It also appears in my book String Bean.)

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

trouser trout

the broom sedge on the hill moves wildly
to and fro
as flocks of black birds fly over the
flexing shafts of orange.
it is autumn.
the day is warm. also on the hill, very
near its top, and
amongst the wind-whipped shafts of
broom sedge, two sexy naked young men
lie atop
an old musty dark green blanket.
they are
lying on their sides, facing
one another,
and their
hands are all over each
other -- nipples, butts, dicks, balls --
they can't keep their hands off
of each other as
the wind whips the
broom sedge, and
up above, black birds
drift in the wind.
autumn is
in the air, and when the
young men start spurting
cum, the broom sedge moves
to and fro, the black
birds drift above,
and the lips of
the two sexy naked young men
are open wide, sucking in air
as if they couldn't get enough of it,
the flavor of the autumn air,
the wind whipping all around, black
birds drifting above, and, down
below, this blanket, these two
naked young men, their
cum on each other's bellies,
their eyes shiny like dirty books,
the beautiful ones, with
really naughty covers.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in Chiron Review, Issue #102, Winter 2015. It also appears in my book String Bean.)