Two semi-randomly selected poems---

how many prawns can you eat?

the science of satiation says to keep on doing
something until you're full of it. teehee.
well, seriously now, the
science of satiation basically says,
you keep on eating until you
are full. then, you stop eating, because you
are full, and you don't want anything
else to eat, for a while anyway.
the science of satiation says to keep on doing
something until you are done, and
then you stop. for instance,
the beautiful big-dicked young man
keeps on masturbating, keeps on
rubbing and stroking and pumping away
on his big hard dick, until he
spurts cum. then, the
beautiful big-dicked young man stops
masturbating. and
the beautiful big-dicked young man doesn't
masturbate again until
he's in the mood again.
the science of satiation says the
beautiful big-dicked young man
will masturbate until he's done,
and then he won't masturbate anymore,
for a good while. but, that "good while"
part is open to interpretation.
the science of satiation is fuzzy on this point.
the science of satiation is indeterminant in
this area.
when does a person who has eaten
his or her fill need to eat again?
when does the beautiful big-dicked
young man need to masturbate again?
it is this "betweenness" in the
science of satiation that causes
so much head-scratching. between
one meal and the next. between
one masturbatory session and
the next. what does one DO with
all that betweenness? and, in
fact, how much betweenness
should there be? is there
some optimal amount of
betweenness?  the science
of satiation is a world
of imprecision, of maybe's
and kinda's and sort-of's. when the
beautiful big-dicked young man
is masturbating, he is happy,
pleasant, and cheerful.
when the beautiful big-dicked
young man is eating, he
is happy, pleasant, and cheerful.
often, though, when he
is eating, he is thinking
about masturbating. when
will he get to masturbate again?
after dessert? or, should
he skip dessert, and get
right to the masturbating?
between meals, between
masturbation sessions,
drifting along in the
realm of betweenness,
the beautiful big-dicked young man
is lost, adrift, and
alone -- as the scientists
of satiation congratulate
themselves on the knowledge
they've amassed so far, and slap each
other on the back, until
one of them says stop.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book Gorilla Architecture, published by Interior Noise Press in 2011. Gorilla Architecture is currently for sale at good ole' Amazon.)

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traces of mercury

"so i see that your are vaginally active," said the
doctor to his patient.
his patient is a sexy naked colossally big-dicked young man.
"i'm not sure what you mean," said the patient to his doctor.
"i'm just a regular guy."
"and yet, clearly you are vaginally active," said the doctor.
the doctor is a mid-40s-in-age kind of guy, kind of frumpy in
his demeanor, and yet, with a sincere sense of earnestness about him.
"i'm not sure what you're getting at,"
said the sexy naked colossally big-dicked young man.
"and i'm not sure what the term 'vaginally active' actually
means," he added.
the doctor has just withdrawn his latex-covered finger
from the anus of the patient.
"i see that you let yourself get fucked in the ass
as if you were using it as a vagina, which
of course, it is not," said the doctor, trying
to sound kind and sympathetic, but, well, not really succeeding
at all.
the doctor removes the latex glove, turning it inside out as he does
so, and deposits the glove in a covered trashcan.
"you may get dressed now," said the doctor to his patient,
the sexy naked colossally big-dicked young man. "and
be assured that the fact that you are vaginally active in no way
mis-images my perception of you as a flesh-and-blood
patient with dreams and hopes and aspirations, as
well as sexual desires, wants, and kinkinesses," said
the doctor.
the sexy naked colossally big-dicked young man
stands there staring at the doctor. "i'm just
a regular guy," he said to the doctor.
"mostly, as a matter of fact, my sex life
is solo: i jerk off a lot. and i don't
insert anything at all into my ass."
"and yet, clearly you are a vaginally active young
man," said the doctor.  he wrinkles up his frumpy little
nose and stares down it at his patient.
the sexy naked colossally big-dicked young man
has yet to start getting dressed. he has
an annoyed expression on his handsome face.   
"i use crisco shortening when i jerk off,"
said the patient. "i smear it
on my dick and my hands. i like the texture,
the feeling of warmth, the absence of
friction."
"the application of crisco can also of course help you
in your vaginally active methodology," said
the doctor. he blinks, as kindly as possible.
"for the last time!" said
the sexy naked colossally big-dicked young man.
"i am NOT vaginally active! and i wish you
would stop using that terminology!"
"please get dressed," said the doctor.
"and don't be distressed. becoming vaginally active
is not a severe detriment to one's happiness,
healthiness, and sexual well-being."
"mainly i watch television food shows
while i'm jerking off!" said
the sexy naked colossally big-dicked young man.
"and i've never even thought of sticking a
cucumber up my ass!"
"you're thinking about it now, aren't you?"
said the doctor.
the sexy naked colossally big-dicked young man
stands there, staring at the doctor.
the patient is clearly angry.
the patient is fuming.
"i'm just a regular guy," said
the sexy naked colossally big-dicked young man.
"i just jerk off a lot. that's pretty
much the extent of my sex life."
"and these cucumbers," said the
doctor. "would they be peeled, or not?"
"i'm JUST A REGULAR GUY," said the patient.
"JUST A REGULAR GUY!!" he said again.
"being vaginally active is nothing to
be upset about," said the doctor.
"the quality of a man's life is measured
in many, many ways. most of them non-sexual,
most of them having nothing to do with whether
or not he is vaginally active."
the sexy naked colossally big-dicked young man
is getting dressed now. very quickly.
"and when did you first become vaginally active?"
said the doctor. "when was your first
vaginally active experience?"
it was then that the
sauce in the young man's refrigerator began to curdle,
and the aroma of
finely chopped onions, wafted into his kitchen.
alone in his own house that night,
the sexy naked colossally big-dicked young man
sputtered and fumed and seriously considered
treason.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book Saline, published by Interior Noise Press in 2014. Saline is currently for sale at good ole' Amazon.)