then get out of the kitchen

the boy with the plutonium dick
has eyes of fire,
dreams of 4th of july,
believes in total sexual conquest.
he wants slaves.
lots of them.
**
all alone in
his room, its walls
covered with aluminum foil,
the boy with the plutonium dick
practices his aim,
perfects trajectory masturbation and
spatters the paper target
bullseye with his own
cum. he's got a good
aim. the center of
the target bursts into
flame, then evaporates,
when his cum hits it.
this always
makes him chuckle.
**
the boy with the plutonium dick
fucks his best friend paul
right up the ass.
paul likes the heat.
and can take it.
paul's very good-looking.
and paul's got a great ass,
in spite of the burnmarks.
**
the boy with the plutonium dick
kisses paul tenderly after
he fucks paul, and then
the boy with the plutonium dick
sucks paul off, as paul
whimpers with
sexual ecstasy, there
on the muddy leaf-strewn ground,
for they like to do
it in the woods,
and the occasional forest fire,
well, that's just too bad.


--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book Saline, published by Interior Noise Press in 2014. The poem first appeared in print in Chiron Review, Issue 92, Autumn 2010.)