Four poems


the scarcity of ripe peaches

the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
notices the shape
of the lamp shade
on the lamp
on his desk,
cylindrical,
but not perfectly so. in fact,
the lamp shade is kind of deformed.
he doesn't like that. in fact,
he gets pissed off,
senses depression about to
settle in, quietly,
primly, like
it's been
invited to fill in a
hole in the back
of his head.
who'd come to his funeral,
he wonders, as
he makes the wise decision
to chop off all his
pubic hair,
lands in curly tufts
on his feet, now his
discarded pubes look like
little furry critters,
ticklish on the tops of his
monster-thin
toes.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in And So On... The BareBack Anthology, published by BareBackPress in 2016.)


wahoo!

when i was a teenager,
i used to disappear into the woods near our house,
take off all my clothes, and jerk off,
repeatedly, sometimes 3 or 4 times
in a single afternoon. i remember
i'm spurting what felt like
two gallons of cum, all hot and gooey
and runny, and i'm all hot and sweaty and
good-looking, and my dick is hard nearly
all the time, and i'm kind of in a state
of orgiastic madness.
**
back then, i was also a
manic depressive suicidal mess.
soon to be institutionalized.
**
but, for those few hours there young and
naked and jerking off in the woods,
everything was nice,
the world was good,
and life didn't seem
nearly so crazy.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in And So On... The BareBack Anthology, published by BareBackPress in 2016.)


do you say "supper" or "dinner"?

magritte the wallpaper and turn out the lights.
confess your sins to anyone who will listen.
promise to be good every single minute of every single day.
if you've been doing something bad, swear that you'll
stop it at once, and swear that you'll never ever do it again.
stick to your diet. watch your alcohol intake.
watch dirty movies only if they have
some meaningful artistic statement to make.
just get yourself together!
**
while walking down the road to complete and
total recovery,
the sexy naked big-dicked young man
told himself that he needed to stop
all sorts of things that he'd been doing.
too much drinking. too much
masturbating. too much
cynicism. too much criticizing
everything and everyone. he
needed to develop a sweeter nature.
a kinder attitude.
a more forgiving stance in the world.
soon the sexy naked big-dicked young man
sat down on a big smooth rock in
the middle of the woods and
thought about all these things
while he was jerking off,
thought about all these things
as he was tugging gently and rhythmically
on his big sturdy dick,
even thought about all these
things during the all-too-brief moments when
the cum was spurting out of him.
then,
the sexy naked big-dicked young man
pulled the bottle of whiskey out
of his knapsack and he sat there,
on the rock, in the middle of
the forest,
drinking whiskey and smelling
the musky scent of his
own fresh cum.
really, the world at
this moment was
all too beautiful.
how could he ever
have an
unpleasant thought
about it, or
himself, ever
ever again?
in fact, at this moment,
a bright
orange butterfly
landed on his
left nipple, and
the touch of
its delicate
and brittle little legs
made the
sexy naked big-dicked young man
grin like an
idiot, a sweet and harmless one,
with a heart
of the finest and
purest gold.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in And So On...The BareBack Anthology, September 2016.)


oligocene chastity

while wiling away the hours,
the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
likes to tug on his big hard sturdy dick,
and spurt big sloppy gobs of hot gooey cum.
**
also, he runs many miles alone in
the bright sunny forest.
he gets stronger and sexier
and even better looking.
**
also, he likes shrimp puffs.
**
now you take yer average
shrimp puff
and savor it with
the tip of your tongue.
yer teeth crunching
on it till
there's next to nothing
there -- a bit of
wet dust in your
mouth -- and
that's all.
**
doesn't seem like
the average
sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
would be "into"
shrimp puffs.
**
but he is.
**
life's kinda like that.
**
unexpected, barely
semi-logical.
**
you wish everything made
more sense than it actually
does.
**
but there he sits.
eating shrimp puffs.
**
and it's not even noon.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in And So On...The BareBack Anthology, September 2016.)