Saturday, March 21, 2009

Poet, you know it!

I get lots of email from fun characters, and one is a poet from Virginia by the name of Carl Miller Daniels. I always know I have a mail from him because the subject line announces: "Poetry Alert!" Or "Tooting my own horn again!" And then I get to read something he published, something totally gay, and from a fun poetry journal, like the ingeniously named "Zygote in my Coffee".

Carl then always, and I mean ALWAYS, ends his emails to me like this:

Best wishes from the land of Jim Beam bourbons 'n' Canada Dry ginger ales, gently, oh so gently, mixed, over ice.

Kind of makes you want to move to Virginia, right? Here's his latest- found at Thieves Journal. I asked him to send one for the blog, and for your pleasure...the bourbon slinging Virginian who regularly flosses his teeth hereby presents for your prurient poetic pleasure:

This brand-new poem, "who goes there" by Carl Miller Daniels, has
never been published anywhere else before, and appears for the first
time ever!, here on Jesse Archer's blog! Thanks, Jesse! --Carl
------------------------------
------------------------------------------

who goes there

again the house was empty, and
again the big-dicked family teenage boy
was horny as hell. he'd already
fucked the space between the
two cushions in his favorite
big overstuffed couch, the
one in the living room. and
now he was fucking the
tight smooth space
between the two pillows
on his own bed.
the big-dicked family teenage boy
was long and lean and lanky.
some, including himself,
thought he looked really
good naked. and so
as he fucked that space
between the two pillows
on his bed, and prepared
to pull out just before
he came, he pictured
himself being admired, now,
by those who thought he
looked good. he pictured
doris and susie and eileen
and kate, standing beside
his bed, looking down at
him as he fucked that
space between those
two pillows. he pictured
rick and ted and mitch,
too, peeking out from
between the girls. then
the big-dicked family teenage boy
got really turned on, pulled
out from between the
two pillows, and held onto
his big smooth cock real
tight as
he spurted his cum
into the wad of kleenexes
he'd had waiting for
just this purpose.
now, on his knees,
naked on his bed,
the big-dicked family teenage boy
observed himself in the mirror,
smiled back at himself,
and burped, a big smelly
burp -- pizza, with
coca cola -- the
american dream, only
naked.

2 comments:

cmdaniels said...

THANK YOU JESSE!! I sure appreciate the nice things you said about me and my work!
:-)
Best wishes from (you guessed it!) the land of Jim Beam bourbon 'n' Canada Dry ginger ale, gently mixed, over ice. ah!
--Carl

Anonymous said...

Hey that's how I first masturbated--between the couch cushions!- This poem is about me!