now that's an existential moment

brightly shine the little stars at night.
the sexy young man lies naked on his back,
staring up at them while he masturbates.
just before he cums, he rolls onto his
side, and spurts his cum off into the grass.
then, he rolls again onto his back, and
stares up at the stars while his big cock
droops and gets flexible again.  he
smells the scent of the night air (soil
and warm wispy dampness) and the scent
of his own cum (acrid, musky, fertile).
he watches a bat gliding and dipping
as it tries to catch insects. the sexy
naked young man cannot tell if the bat
is catching any insects or not. it is too
dark, and the insects are just too small.
the sexy naked young man curls and uncurls
his toes. he touches his nipples, first
the left one, then the right, and
feels just a bit astonished at how
hot his own body feels at the touch
of his own fingertips. then he remembers,
and that's when the calmness really settles in,
midnight, summer, the middle of june.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book Riot Act, published by Chiron Review Press in 2010.)