now now diurnal tryptophan

the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
stood at the edge of the meadow,
looking down at the little
white flowers that were blooming
profusely in the warm light of the summertime
sun. he was in a great mood.
he felt like giving himself a thousand million
orgasms, one for each and every
flower that was exploding there in front
of him.
**
"god, what a beautiful day. god,
what a wonderful day," thought the
sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
as he tugged gently on his big smooth massive
dick, hard, and thick, and shiny,
until, very soon, he
watched the cum explode out of its
tip,
savored the moment, savored the
sensation of harsh orgasm and
its gentle nerve-soothing after-effects.
**
now, the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
wanted another one, another orgasm,
right now, right this minute, and he
wanted it immediately!
but that was pretty much impossible.
his dick was now soft, and he would
have to wait a while for it to
"re-charge".
but he didn't want to wait
he didn't want to wait
he never ever wanted to wait.
**
his good mood evaporated.
**
it was a beautiful day,
but
way too long,
and all those goddamn little white flowers,
well, they
could just go
fuck themselves.
**
when the earth is a zillion
years old,
how does anyone
go on?
and why do they
do it? with
the hint of summer
fading, and the
breath of winter
feeding on the
curly twists of time.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book Be Kind to Strangers, published by BareBackPress in 2015.)