trouser trout

the broom sedge on the hill moves wildly
to and fro
as flocks of black birds fly over the
flexing shafts of orange.
it is autumn.
the day is warm. also on the hill, very
near its top, and
amongst the wind-whipped shafts of
broom sedge, two sexy naked young men
lie atop
an old musty dark green blanket.
they are
lying on their sides, facing
one another,
and their
hands are all over each
other -- nipples, butts, dicks, balls --
they can't keep their hands off
of each other as
the wind whips the
broom sedge, and
up above, black birds
drift in the wind.
autumn is
in the air, and when the
young men start spurting
cum, the broom sedge moves
to and fro, the black
birds drift above,
and the lips of
the two sexy naked young men
are open wide, sucking in air
as if they couldn't get enough of it,
the flavor of the autumn air,
the wind whipping all around, black
birds drifting above, and, down
below, this blanket, these two
naked young men, their
cum on each other's bellies,
their eyes shiny like dirty books,
the beautiful ones, with
really naughty covers.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in Chiron Review, Issue #102, Winter 2015. It also appears in my book String Bean.)