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in tofu heaven,
there's no half-realized visions
of perfection.
**
everything is tofu as far
as the eye can see.
**
there's never any hard questions in
tofu heaven.
everything's calm, quiet.
**
at night, though,
cute boys do sometimes run around naked
and spurt their cum from their big smooth shapely throbbing
dicks.
sometimes these cute boys even touch each other, but
always gently;
**
nobody hurries.
and the soft-textured
beige of tofu
lingers on.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem appeared in Zygote in my Coffee, print issue #6, Winter 2009.)