twice the size of our regular brand

millipedes on the resplendent landscapes of
theoretical principles of sex and sexuality
fascinated everyone, of course,
but none more than the
sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy.
when he thought about everything,
about the hair and the aroma and
the slipperiness of it all,
the millipede on the
stepping stone in the backyard
rolling up into a ball as a way
to protect itself from harm,
the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
knelt down and studied the
creature, the spiral of the
coil, the legs tugged in tight,
its little head protected in
the very center of the coil,
golly what a pretty creature
it is,
and
as
the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
stares at the millipede which has
rolled itself into a coil on
the stepping stone in his
backyard,
he contemplates being out here
naked,
hoping no one will observe
him out here,
where he shouldn't be naked--
it's not like he's an exhibitionist
or something, it's not like
he wants everyone to
see his big throbbing dick,
a part of nature as
sure as
the yellow dragonflies,
currently laying their eggs
in the crystal-clear fishpond
that his father loves
like a son.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book Gorilla Architecture, published by Interior Noise Press in 2011.)