they were mallards

you just got fucked by a sexy
big-dicked 18-yr-old boy and you
really REALLY liked it. you had
a fantastic time, even though
you're still feeling a little sore
and rubbed-raw. now, you're
writing a poem about getting fucked by
that sexy big-dicked 18-yr-old boy.
but, after just a
couple lines, you're deciding maybe
to write the poem about something
else: something less, well, you
know, revealing. maybe you'll
write the poem about watching
ducks swim at the pond where
he picked you up and took
you home and gave you the best
fucking of yer life.
so you write the poem about the pond and
about the ducks.  there
were water lilies. and there was a
momma duck, with about a dozen
fuzzy ducklings. they were
cute. just as cute as
that big-dicked sexy smoldering
boy, but in a different kind of way,
of course, but you don't
elaborate, or mention
the boy, or the fucking.
you stop at the ducks.
besides, in reality, you didn't get fucked
by any 18-yr-old boy.  in fact,
you didn't get fucked at all.
so, in your poem, you just tell the
truth.  you respect your
readers, and while you like art and
would do almost anything to make some,
you love your readers, and would
never EVER tell them a lie.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem also appears in my book Riot Act, published by Chiron Review Press in 2010. The poem was first published in Dispatch #1, January 2006.)

convincing a friend

window

flavor

oh yes, it is indeed possible that Zac Efron is the
sexiest most handsome young man on the planet.
yes, it is indeed possible that every young gay boy,
that every gay teenage boy,
that every gay young man, that every gay 30-something
man, that every gay middle-age man, and that every gay old man
on the planet
who has ever seen even one photograph of Zac Efron or
who has seen Zac Efron act in even one movie
entertains the thought of gently licking
Zac Efron's balls.
and yes,
it is indeed possible that ANYbody on the planet
with any sense knows that
Zac Efron, yes, KNOWS
that Zac Efron is almost excruciatingly attractive,
knows
that Zac Efron is handsome beyond almost
all standard measures of handsomeness,
knows that Zac Efron is
sexy way beyond almost all measures of sexiness.
gay males, straight females, and no doubt
bi males and bi females, too, think
about Zac Efron in terms that are sexual.
some straight males, too, yes males
who know that they are heterosexual, perhaps
nonetheless find themselves thinking
about Zac Efron in terms that are
frankly, sexual. in fact, some heterosexual
males are no doubt disturbed to wake
up in the middle of the night
fresh from a dream involving an imagined Zac Efron
movie and a Zac Efron scene
is which there is full frontal nudity of
a Zac Efron kind.
Most disturbing of all, to these kind
of men, is that whenever they spell
his name, they always spell it
right.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in Chiron Review, Issue #86, Spring 2009. It also appears in my book String Bean, published by BareBackPress in 2018.)

just the thumbs

cute guys who writhe --
ah cute guys who writhe --
cute guys who really truly WRITHE,
cute guys who roll around naked
on top of the sheets and WRITHE,
really WRITHE, well, they are nothing short of
wonderful.  twisting and
turning and rolling and extending
and flexing and well, WRITHING,
god, they are HOT.
cute guys who strip off all
their clothes and writhe,
who roll around naked
and exhibit paroxysms of ecstasy,
who stretch & wriggle & contort themselves
with the pleasure
and passion of being cute and naked
and sexual and alive and sensate
and who writhe and writhe
and writhe as the world
turns slowly:  ah, cute guys who
writhe! ah! cute guys who really WRITHE,
and mean it! "contortion" doesn't
begin to describe what they do.
"extreme stretching and flexing" --
that doesn't do it justice either.
"twisting and turning and
displaying themselves passionately and
exuberantly" comes close. but
what these guys do is WRITHE. and
when you see them writhe, you'll
know that what you've seen is writhing, and
you'll know that you want to
see it again.  by the way,
people also writhe in
the grips of pain, instead of
in the throes of joy. the
similarity of facial gestures can be
unsettling, and, to some, it is
quite troubling.  saints.
ah the tears and screams of the saints.
echoing into the night,
old church walls
shedding their paint.

--Carl Miller Daniels (This poem first appeared in Zygote in My Coffee, print issue #6, Winter 2009. It also appears in my book String Bean.)

various, includes classic photo of guy walking on glass table, and classic photo of hot guy smoking a cigarette (his tattoo says "One Love")

various, includes wine drinker and his comparison of his dick size to wine bottle size