Logan Lerman
Thursday, April 30, 2020
toe-hold
waking up one morning,
the good-looking big-dicked sexy young man
bounded out of bed,
got in his car, and started driving.
he went far far far into
the countryside, found a
forest, parked his car,
walked into the forest,
and sat down on a rock
and thought about his life. while
he was thinking about his life,
he stripped off all his clothes
and tugged on his big hard smooth dick,
there in the forest, alone except
for the black-n-white banded
kingsnake, nestled only a
few feet away from his
naked toes.
the good-looking big-dicked sexy young man
and
the black-n-white banded kingsnake
watched each other as the
the good-looking big-dicked sexy young man
played with his own dick, and, right
after
the good-looking big-dicked sexy young man
spurted a whole bunch of cum, big gooey
gobs of it, the
black-n-white banded kingsnake said:
"pleasure is all that really matters,
isn't it?"
to which the good-looking big-dicked sexy young man
replied: "it's important, all right."
the two of them continued looking
at each other, there in the
middle of the forest,
the good-looking big-dicked sexy young man,
and
the black-n-white banded kingsnake.
then, when the
good-looking big-dicked sexy young man
said, "well, gotta go now, i'm late
for a wedding,"
the black-n-white banded kingsnake
crawled away, deeper into
the forest, profoundly disappointed
by this, his very first reptile-human inter-species
interaction.
the good-looking big-dicked sexy young man
sensed the snake's disappointment,
but, upon leaving the forest,
the good-looking big-dicked sexy young man
went to the wedding, and, while there (and
when the bride's back was turned), he
indulged in a few puzzling shenanigans with
the groom, during which, among
other things, he and the groom secretly shared
tall frothy glasses
of the most expensive champagne.
--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem appeared in Thieves Jargon, issue #203, October 19, 2010.)
waking up one morning,
the good-looking big-dicked sexy young man
bounded out of bed,
got in his car, and started driving.
he went far far far into
the countryside, found a
forest, parked his car,
walked into the forest,
and sat down on a rock
and thought about his life. while
he was thinking about his life,
he stripped off all his clothes
and tugged on his big hard smooth dick,
there in the forest, alone except
for the black-n-white banded
kingsnake, nestled only a
few feet away from his
naked toes.
the good-looking big-dicked sexy young man
and
the black-n-white banded kingsnake
watched each other as the
the good-looking big-dicked sexy young man
played with his own dick, and, right
after
the good-looking big-dicked sexy young man
spurted a whole bunch of cum, big gooey
gobs of it, the
black-n-white banded kingsnake said:
"pleasure is all that really matters,
isn't it?"
to which the good-looking big-dicked sexy young man
replied: "it's important, all right."
the two of them continued looking
at each other, there in the
middle of the forest,
the good-looking big-dicked sexy young man,
and
the black-n-white banded kingsnake.
then, when the
good-looking big-dicked sexy young man
said, "well, gotta go now, i'm late
for a wedding,"
the black-n-white banded kingsnake
crawled away, deeper into
the forest, profoundly disappointed
by this, his very first reptile-human inter-species
interaction.
the good-looking big-dicked sexy young man
sensed the snake's disappointment,
but, upon leaving the forest,
the good-looking big-dicked sexy young man
went to the wedding, and, while there (and
when the bride's back was turned), he
indulged in a few puzzling shenanigans with
the groom, during which, among
other things, he and the groom secretly shared
tall frothy glasses
of the most expensive champagne.
--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem appeared in Thieves Jargon, issue #203, October 19, 2010.)
https://cmd2019.newtumbl.com/
But you won't be able to see everything on my newTumbl blog unless you have a newTumbl blog of your own. In general, you'll only be able to see the "G-rated" stuff, and not any of the "X-rated" stuff on my newTumbl blog, if you don't have your own newTumbl blog.
Wednesday, April 29, 2020
bloom
phone rings.
i pick up. it's darwin on the phone.
"darwin" says darwin.
"er" i say.
"darwin" says darwin.
"yeah?" i say.
"darwin" says darwin.
"pity about the dinosaurs" i say.
"darwin" says darwin.
"pity about the passenger pigeons" i say.
"darwin" says darwin.
"all those little galapagos finches --
they're just so darn cute" i say.
"darwin" says darwin.
i think by now darwin is crying.
"their beaks" i say, "their lovely little beaks
are just so, well, so useful, so practical."
by now i'm crying too.
"darwin" says darwin.
"good-bye" i say.
"darwin" says darwin.
i hear the "click" on the other end.
i hang up.
i'm very sad, but kinda, well, not sad at
all. then i have
pancakes for breakfast. with blueberries.
genetic miracles. bigger than they ever were
before.
--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in My Favorite Bullet, June 2008, Vol. 8, Issue 2. It was recently published as a broadside by 48th Street Press. And it also appears in my book String Bean, published by BareBackPress in March of 2018.)
phone rings.
i pick up. it's darwin on the phone.
"darwin" says darwin.
"er" i say.
"darwin" says darwin.
"yeah?" i say.
"darwin" says darwin.
"pity about the dinosaurs" i say.
"darwin" says darwin.
"pity about the passenger pigeons" i say.
"darwin" says darwin.
"all those little galapagos finches --
they're just so darn cute" i say.
"darwin" says darwin.
i think by now darwin is crying.
"their beaks" i say, "their lovely little beaks
are just so, well, so useful, so practical."
by now i'm crying too.
"darwin" says darwin.
"good-bye" i say.
"darwin" says darwin.
i hear the "click" on the other end.
i hang up.
i'm very sad, but kinda, well, not sad at
all. then i have
pancakes for breakfast. with blueberries.
genetic miracles. bigger than they ever were
before.
--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in My Favorite Bullet, June 2008, Vol. 8, Issue 2. It was recently published as a broadside by 48th Street Press. And it also appears in my book String Bean, published by BareBackPress in March of 2018.)
Tuesday, April 28, 2020
Another blog of mine is this one at newTumbl--
https://cmd2019.newtumbl.com/
But you won't be able to see everything on my newTumbl blog unless you have a newTumbl blog of your own. In general, you'll only be able to see the "G-rated" stuff, and not any of the "X-rated" stuff on my newTumbl blog, if you don't have your own newTumbl blog.
Monday, April 27, 2020
Sunday, April 26, 2020
Two poems
sherwin-williams
in some parts of the country, it's
a homeowner's tradition: everything in
the yard (except
the grass itself) gets painted white:
every rock, every birdbath, every
busty concrete mermaid statue,
even the lower 3.5 feet
of every tree trunk--all painted white.
**
at night, there's kind of an eerie
glow from all that white paint.
**
at night, there's
just the hint that maybe the
practice of painting everything
in the yard white is kind
of charming and weirdly nice, like
the people who do all that painting
know what the heck it is they are doing.
those yards do look kind of inviting
now don't they...
**
in fact,
**
sometimes,
sexy teenage boys escape from
their bedrooms and
naked smoke and drink
beside white rocks and
lower 3.5 feet of white tree trunks.
sometimes these sexy
naked teenage boys get smoke-drunk
and erotic-happy and
jerk off together, out there
in some unsuspecting yard,
amongst all the white
objects: then,
all done,
wander nocturnal neighborhoods
on tiptoe, on delicate hoof, among
the white rocks;
only the
dribbles give them away.
–Carl Miller Daniels (This poem – “sherwin-williams” – also appears in my book Gorilla Architecture, published by Interior Noise Press in 2011. And “sherwin-williams” first appeared in Rusty Truck, October 20, 2010.)
==========================================
do you dream in color?
the sexy young man is naked and asleep
on his back, the covers kicked off.
it's summer. his room is warm.
just before he spurts cum and wakes up,
this is what he is dreaming:
**
large flightless birds wander
freely, foraging for food among
the slimy secretions and armpit
hairs. pine trees grow tall
and wispy in the gardens
that surround the wet birdbaths.
hamburgers occur naturally
on the landscape, with onions
and pickle. the bathwater
is soapy and warm when
two naked young men climb
into it and begin to splash
each other. their toenails are pink and
very, very shiny. noodle soup on the stove top
in the kitchen bubbles
enticingly.
**
when he awakens, the whitish mucusy
glaze has only recently appeared
on his chest and belly, and
dribbled into his pubic hair. the glaze
is still warm & runny.
he knows
what has happened from past experience.
hanging from the bedpost is an old t-shirt.
he cleans himself off with the t-shirt.
then he drops it onto the floor.
**
he lies there in the dark
cum-scented muskiness of the hot
summer night. eventually, he
will go back to sleep.
**
but, for a while, he stares
into the darkness above him.
suddenly, he turns on the bedside
lamp and looks at his toenails.
they're pink, alright. pretty
goddamn pink.
--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem -- "do you dream in color?" -- also appears in my book Riot Act, published by Chiron Review Press in 2010.
Saturday, April 25, 2020
Two poems
open window
on some pornographic websites, i see photographs of
guys pissing on each other.
these guys are cute young men (often
VERY cute young men),
and they seem to be having such fun pissing
on each other,
there's this look in their eyes,
kinda giddy, kinda wild, actually,
and they certainly give the impression
that pissing on each other is just
another way of having good clean sexual fun.
**
once, a long time ago,
i was in bed with a guy who asked
me to piss in his mouth.
so i did.
turns out i squirted so much pee into
his mouth that
he wasn't able to swallow it all
and
some of it dribbled down his chin,
and it was, well, sorta icky.
i was drunk and stoned at the time,
and i didn't think he was all that attractive,
and, well,
i guess the whole experience
wasn't very much fun for me,
and i kinda got the feeling
it didn't turn out to be so much
fun for him, either, since
i pissed such an unexpectedly
large volume of pee into
his mouth.
**
but the sexy good-looking naked
young men pissing on
each other in those
website photos sure look
like they're having fun.
**
sometimes i think
back about various things
i've done during my life.
various sexual things.
i'm sure most people
do that, from time to time.
think back over things
they've done.
things they wish they'd
done.
things that they'd have done
if they'd been given the chance.
things they might
still do,
perhaps in the
bathtub, so the
mattress won't get
wet.
**
not that a wet mattress is
the worst thing
in the world.
**
still, though,
i think
ya know what i mean.
--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in BareBack Magazine, September 2014. It also appears in my book String Bean.)
=======================================
trouser trout
the broom sedge on the hill moves wildly
to and fro
as flocks of black birds fly over the
flexing shafts of orange.
it is autumn.
the day is warm. also on the hill, very
near its top, and
amongst the wind-whipped shafts of
broom sedge, two sexy naked young men
lie atop
an old musty dark green blanket.
they are
lying on their sides, facing
one another,
and their
hands are all over each
other -- nipples, butts, dicks, balls --
they can't keep their hands off
of each other as
the wind whips the
broom sedge, and
up above, black birds
drift in the wind.
autumn is
in the air, and when the
young men start spurting
cum, the broom sedge moves
to and fro, the black
birds drift above,
and the lips of
the two sexy naked young men
are open wide, sucking in air
as if they couldn't get enough of it,
the flavor of the autumn air,
the wind whipping all around, black
birds drifting above, and, down
below, this blanket, these two
naked young men, their
cum on each other's bellies,
their eyes shiny like dirty books,
the beautiful ones, with
really naughty covers.
--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in Chiron Review, Issue #102, Winter 2015. It also appears in my book String Bean.)
open window
on some pornographic websites, i see photographs of
guys pissing on each other.
these guys are cute young men (often
VERY cute young men),
and they seem to be having such fun pissing
on each other,
there's this look in their eyes,
kinda giddy, kinda wild, actually,
and they certainly give the impression
that pissing on each other is just
another way of having good clean sexual fun.
**
once, a long time ago,
i was in bed with a guy who asked
me to piss in his mouth.
so i did.
turns out i squirted so much pee into
his mouth that
he wasn't able to swallow it all
and
some of it dribbled down his chin,
and it was, well, sorta icky.
i was drunk and stoned at the time,
and i didn't think he was all that attractive,
and, well,
i guess the whole experience
wasn't very much fun for me,
and i kinda got the feeling
it didn't turn out to be so much
fun for him, either, since
i pissed such an unexpectedly
large volume of pee into
his mouth.
**
but the sexy good-looking naked
young men pissing on
each other in those
website photos sure look
like they're having fun.
**
sometimes i think
back about various things
i've done during my life.
various sexual things.
i'm sure most people
do that, from time to time.
think back over things
they've done.
things they wish they'd
done.
things that they'd have done
if they'd been given the chance.
things they might
still do,
perhaps in the
bathtub, so the
mattress won't get
wet.
**
not that a wet mattress is
the worst thing
in the world.
**
still, though,
i think
ya know what i mean.
--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in BareBack Magazine, September 2014. It also appears in my book String Bean.)
=======================================
trouser trout
the broom sedge on the hill moves wildly
to and fro
as flocks of black birds fly over the
flexing shafts of orange.
it is autumn.
the day is warm. also on the hill, very
near its top, and
amongst the wind-whipped shafts of
broom sedge, two sexy naked young men
lie atop
an old musty dark green blanket.
they are
lying on their sides, facing
one another,
and their
hands are all over each
other -- nipples, butts, dicks, balls --
they can't keep their hands off
of each other as
the wind whips the
broom sedge, and
up above, black birds
drift in the wind.
autumn is
in the air, and when the
young men start spurting
cum, the broom sedge moves
to and fro, the black
birds drift above,
and the lips of
the two sexy naked young men
are open wide, sucking in air
as if they couldn't get enough of it,
the flavor of the autumn air,
the wind whipping all around, black
birds drifting above, and, down
below, this blanket, these two
naked young men, their
cum on each other's bellies,
their eyes shiny like dirty books,
the beautiful ones, with
really naughty covers.
--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in Chiron Review, Issue #102, Winter 2015. It also appears in my book String Bean.)
Friday, April 24, 2020
https://cmd2019.newtumbl.com/
But you won't be able to see everything on my newTumbl blog unless you have a newTumbl blog of your own. In general, you'll only be able to see the "G-rated" stuff, and not any of the "X-rated" stuff on my newTumbl blog, if you don't have your own newTumbl blog.
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