twice that many

speaking of possibilities,
it was the POSSIBILITY of possibilities
that excited him,
that made him sweat.
as he stood naked and alone
in the forest, naked and ultra-sexy,
the slinky sinewy big-dicked boy
thought of POSSIBILITIES:
the trees suddenly
bursting into flames,
the sky turning beet-red,
the salamanders transforming
themselves into scale-covered balloons,
rising up into the rapidly-melting bubble-gum
wrappers that had once been clouds.
ah yes,
the naked slinky sinewy big-dicked boy
saw the
fall of long-lasting civilizations,
the
treaclization of dietary programs,
the
missions of long-lost fighter-pilots completed
afterall.
ah, the POSSIBILITY of possibilities.
endless and eternally mutable.
the naked slinky sinewy big-dicked boy
watched
as the protozoa evolved into
big-boned vapid-eyed dinosaurs,
the ocean's kelp
wrapping itself around
sexy mermen who fucked
ever-willing dolphins who then
gave birth to extra-terrestrial
vats of soft bubbly panna cotta.
ah,
yes,
the naked slinky sinewy big-dicked boy
dreamed and believed and yearned
and hungered
as he tugged on his own big
thick nice long hard-as-a-rock dick,
and spurted cum
into the temporality of time and
reason,
flights to the
watershed regions of
cowboy wranglers and
monetary
manipulations
a solitary tri-folded sheet of white shiny paper
artfully mounted on a big
lonely
museum wall, the marble
floors of the restrooms there
so very peaceful,
so angry,
so detailed in their splashes
of sticky little drops of
barely yellow piss.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem appears in My Favorite Bullet, Volume 12, Issue 1, February 2013. My Favorite Bullet is an online magazine, and this issue may be found here: http://www.myfavoritebullet.com/00-00_2013_1_Main.html.)