turn your head and cough twice

and on the night the wild bunny rabbit escaped from
its cage, and scampered off into the darkness,
the sexy teenage boy who thought he owned that
bunny was lying sweating and naked on his
back, masturbating for the 4th time that
evening. he'd determined, from past experience,
that the 4th time always felt the best,
slow to reach orgasm, lots of time
for gently stroking and massaging his
big smooth dick, and, when the orgasm
hit, it always hit big-time. oh yeppers,
that 4th time was definitely the charm.
**
when the sexy teenage boy
got out of bed the next morning
and found out that his wild bunny rabbit
had escaped from its cage,
he was sad, and angry at himself,
for not having built a better cage.
he'd been meaning to build a more-secure
cage for several days now, but, well,
he just hadn't done it, had he?
**
the day passed quietly.
that night, while the sexy teenage boy
lay naked and sweaty on his back,
all the covers thrown off,
again masturbating as though there
were no tomorrow,
the wild bunny rabbit that had
escaped from its cage
was munching clover, wild clover,
the kind with lots of fluffy white
blossoms. the blossoms were
the part that the bunny liked
the best, and that was the
part upon which the bunny
gorged tonight, in the
big distant meadow,
while the sexy teenage boy jerked
off alone in that big sweaty bed.
**
when the boy came, and spattered
his taut naked belly with hot cum,
he muttered something under his
breath about "that damn rabbit,"
and, then, he wiped himself off, and
everything was as peaceful
as the distant moon that
glowed slightly orange -- for
the time was now so very
close to the arrival of autumn,
and, with it, all those big
ripe delirious pumpkins.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in Chiron Review, Issue 92, Autumn 2010.)