Four  poems




flavor

oh yes, it is indeed possible that Zac Efron is the
sexiest most handsome young man on the planet.
yes, it is indeed possible that every young gay boy,
that every gay teenage boy,
that every gay young man, that every gay 30-something
man, that every gay middle-age man, and that every gay old man
on the planet
who has ever seen even one photograph of Zac Efron or
who has seen Zac Efron act in even one movie
entertains the thought of gently licking
Zac Efron's balls.
and yes,
it is indeed possible that ANYbody on the planet
with any sense knows that
Zac Efron, yes, KNOWS
that Zac Efron is almost excruciatingly attractive,
knows
that Zac Efron is handsome beyond almost
all standard measures of handsomeness,
knows that Zac Efron is
sexy way beyond almost all measures of sexiness.
gay males, straight females, and no doubt
bi males and bi females, too, think
about Zac Efron in terms that are sexual.
some straight males, too, yes males
who know that they are heterosexual, perhaps
nonetheless find themselves thinking
about Zac Efron in terms that are
frankly, sexual. in fact, some heterosexual
males are no doubt disturbed to wake
up in the middle of the night
fresh from a dream involving an imagined Zac Efron
movie and a Zac Efron scene
is which there is full frontal nudity of
a Zac Efron kind.
Most disturbing of all, to these kind
of men, is that whenever they spell
his name, they always spell it
right.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in Chiron Review, Issue #86, Spring 2009. It also appears in my book String Bean, published by BareBackPress in 2018.) 


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


the dignity of cloth napkins

the sexy naked big-dicked boys are
out roaming the forests. their eyes are
praeternaturally bright and their teeth
are so white that they're dazzling.
the sexy naked big-dicked boys attack
wild animals and tear them into pieces and
swallow them raw. they are having the
time of their lives, these sexy naked
big-dicked boys, roaming around
wild and wild-eyed, taking what they want.
nothing can stop them.
after a successful day in which they
fell 3 deer and 2 wild pigs, as well as an elk, a moose,
and a mountain lion,
the sexy naked big-dicked boys
are lounging around beside a stream,
all of them masturbating
while they eat,
their big dicks hard
and throbbing and
periodically spurting out
big gooey plumes of hot runny cum.
then, after dining
and spurting cum,
a relatively peaceful mood hovers about the place,
and they settle down for conversation.
the sexy naked big-dicked boy who's
kinda in charge tonight -- they took a vote -- he also happens
to be the cutest guy there -- maybe effected the outcome
of the vote, maybe not -- anyhow, this guy gets to 
select the topic for this evening's
discussion.  when he announces it is "the history
of bipolar disorder and its treatment," at first
everyone has a real good chuckle, until they
realize he's goddamn serious.
then, out come the textbooks,
and it's right down to business.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in The Commonline Journal, February 9, 2015.)


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


missed opportunities

watercolor the pizzas while the
feral tomcat wades across the stream.
the sky is about to open up and
drop about a ba-zillion raindrops,
but that hasn't happened yet.
the little silver-colored fish
are swimming in schools of
about a hundred fish each.
the tomcat has learned that
attack is useless, for the
little fishies are quite
impossible. might as well
try to eat air.
**
once, when the sexy naked big-dicked
teenage boy was
out walking,
he and the big
ole yellow feral tomcat had eyeballed each
other,
and decided, evidently, that
they were too much alike
to cause any real difficulty.
**
it was, ultimately, the sexy naked big-dicked
teenage boy
who captured the little silver fishies
in his minnow trap.
and, even though the tomcat begged
and yowled,
the boy wouldn't give him any.
**
after that,
they remained life-long enemies.
the boy went on to become a great fisherman -- he
fished rain or shine.
often the
tomcat
sat in the rain,
his ears dripping the bitter
gray water of those who have been shamed,
but not conquered.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in The Commonline Journal, March 28, 2016.)


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


creosote pineapple

let us go
into the realm
of elevated emotional states, and quickened heartbeat,
and big thick erections that occur so often,
they are practically every quarter hour.
**
its quick jounces and its apparent pulsating urgency.
**
let us go into his bedroom, where,
sometimes, after a
nap, and all alone,
in front of his own bedroom mirror,
the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
alters the flow of blood
to his heart,
and re-arranges his position so that
his dick points off more toward
one side, than toward the middle.
**
just a swivel of the
hips, really,
one buttock a little more
relaxed, than
tense.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in The Commonline Journal, May 13, 2016.)