apartment hunting

at night the skunks are digging holes in the garden.
no doubt they're digging for worms, and insect larvae,
which they gobble down eagerly.
the only one who lives in the house which has
that backyard in which the garden is located
is a sexy big-dicked young man named zeke.
zeke is "into" growing his own food. zeke's goal
is to buy next-to-nothing at the grocery store.
zeke wants to grow everything that he eats.
zeke majored in agriculture in college,
but he has a city job behind a desk
reading manuscripts on business practices
in big banks and corporations.
zeke hates this job,
but it's what came along,
and he lives for his garden,
and growing his own food,
which he eats fresh as possible,
and cans, pickles, or freezes, the rest.
zeke doesn't like the skunks rooting
around in his garden, and so has
taken to going out into the garden in the middle
of the night to
encourage any skunks to get the hell out
of his garden. the skunks always
skitter off when zeke appears, but
zeke knows that he's tempting fate,
that one night the skunks are going to stand
their ground, and spray him if
he gets too close.
**
tonight, zeke rushes out of his
house totally naked and half-crazy with booze
and pills and hatred of the myopic little life
that he's made for himself, and
he sees 3 skunks digging in his
garden, between the green bean vines.
"shooo!" says zeke. "get the hell out
of my garden!"
zeke is moving in an awkward, drugged,
and drunk, manner, and his
general coordination level is way down.
he goes staggering toward one of the skunks,
and that skunk turns around, raises
its tail, and sprays a stream
of hideously-scented musk
right onto zeke's naked belly.
zeke staggers backward,
and that skunk, as well as the
other two, wander on away, slowly,
in no hurry,
as if they'd already decided
they might as well leave anyway, on their own.
**
zeke stands there naked in his garden,
emitting the world's foulest scent from
his belly, which is also slightly stinging
from the general toxicity of the skunk's spray.
zeke staggers over to the garden hose,
and begins to spray himself with the cold
water. he stands there spraying himself
and spraying himself and spraying himself,
shivering, drunk, drugged, and ice
cold.
zeke hates his little life, and the cold
water, and the garden, and his own zealousness,
and the skunks, and pretty much
everything about everything.
when he stops spraying himself
with the cold water from the garden
hose, he goes inside and
climbs into the shower and
washes himself about 35 times with
soap and shampoo
and more soap, and more shampoo,
until the aroma that was clinging
to his skin is mostly, almost entirely,
gone. then zeke dries off
and goes to bed and lies
there sexy naked on his back
his big dick hard as a rock
and as he jerks off
he decides
nothing, nothing, absolutely
nothing.
when the cum finally spurts out
of his big throbbing dick,
he leaves it there on
his chest and belly,
and drifts into
the approximation
of sleep,
all his dreams are black
and white,
like print on paper,
or skunk fur,
glowing in moonlight.

--Carl Miller Daniels (2011)