not in my english class you don't

big-eyed sexy teenage boy who has
plans to
be a biologist
inhales.
the gray-green goop smells
musty, musky, earthy. he's
here in the woods,
naked, all alone,
and he didn't really mean to
get distracted by this
gray-green musky goop.
mainly he's here because he
just wants to
jerk off, all alone out here in
the woods. he feels sexy out
here, naked, in the sunshine,
woodsy leafy smells, little birds singing,
insects clicking and clacking away.
but now, his attention keeps
going back to that
gray-green goop growing on
top of a pile of dry brown leaves.
what the heck is that goop anyway?
a slime mold of some kind?
a lichen?  a fungus? some
kind of algae maybe?
down on his hands
and knees, sticking the
tip of his nose
practically right
in it,
the big-eyed sexy teenage boy
with plans to be a
biologist
suddenly feels like sticking some
of it, well, sticking some of
it back THERE. you know, back
THERE. so he stares at
the stuff some more.
gray-green goop, kinda slimy
in texture. gooey. icky, kinda repulsive,
and yet.  and yet...
his little butt is in the air.
his legs are kinda spread apart.
there's a gentle breeze. it's cool,
yet warm, and it's blowing on
him, blowing gentle sweet sexy
right on the
pink rim of his, well, right on
the rim of tight little
asshole. the breeze feels
cool and tingly, and thoughts
are racing sparkly hot inside
the sloshy wet pinkness of
his almost-a-biologist's
brain. and so now,
the big-eyed sexy teenage boy
with plans to be a biologist
pinches off a
little blob of the gray-green goop
between his thumb and index finger.
squishes it up some more.
reaches back to his asshole,
applies just a little bit to the rim. just
a little bit. just a sample.
so moist. so cool. so well,
maybe push a little of it
right on inside. right on in, just
a little bit, he's
down on his hands and knees,
in the forest, his butt is in the air,
his tight little asshole is pink and
ready for the procedure,
big-eyed sexy teenage boy who
wants to be a biologist
performs the
experiment, plans to keep it secret,
just better off that way,
this the first of many little experiments
out here in the warm summer woods --
miles to go before he
sleeps, miles to
go before he sleeps.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book String Bean, published by BareBackPress in 2018. The poem first appeared in The Commonline Journal, May 15, 2015.)