Thursday, June 26, 2025

 

 

 

Three poems

 

 

 

all this, and twilight crackers with cheese, too

the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy is
standing in front of the fireplace. his parents
are gone, and
the fire is blazing.
he is enjoying the
heat, especially as it radiates
onto his big hard dick.
the sexy naked big-dicked teenage boy
grins, and
does this wild little impromptu
dance, imagines himself a pagan savage,
dancing around an open fire,
his big dick flopping all around
like it's having the
time of its life.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in Chiron Review, Issue #105, Fall 2016.)


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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.)
 

 

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lawrence

the miracle of boredom is that it sometimes
begets creativity.
and masturbation.
and, on really good days, creative masturbation.
for instance, today the sexy big-dicked teenage boy
stirs himself from his boredom and
strips himself naked and paints his
nipples red with a tube of red lipstick.
then, what the heck, he paints his
scrotum red, too,
with the same tube of lipstick.
**
the house is empty. he is all alone.
**
so there he stands, in front of
his big bedroom mirror, totally naked,
his nipples painted red,
his scrotum painted
red, his big dick hard and
smooth and throbbing. 
then he jerks off with
a few fast well-paced pumps of
his fist, and
it's off to the
shower with him, where
he discovers it takes LOTS
of soap and water to
remove lipstick.
information that
may be prove useful
some day, he supposes.
**
he hums a while
in the shower,
a new tune, one
that he's just now
made up.

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

 

    

 

  

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