Archive for the Carl Miller Daniels Category
left at 7 a.m.
everybody aboard was unconcerned.
they’d eaten cranberries for breakfast,
and rejected the canaries.
sniff at stuff they don’t eat,
but could, if they
pond scum is really just algae.
in some parts of the country, it’s
a homeowner’s tradition: everything in
the yard (except
the grass itself) gets painted white:
every rock, every birdbath, every
busty concrete mermaid statue,
even the lower 3.5 feet
of every tree trunk–all painted white.
at night, there’s kind of an eerie
glow from all that white paint.
at night, there’s
just the hint that maybe the
practice of painting everything
in the yard white is kind
of charming and weirdly nice, like
the people who do all that painting
know what the heck it is they are doing.
those yards do look kind of inviting
now don’t they…
sexy teenage boys escape from
their bedrooms and
naked smoke and drink
beside white rocks and
lower 3.5 feet of white tree trunks.
sometimes these sexy
naked teenage boys get smoke-drunk
and erotic-happy and
jerk off together, out there
in some unsuspecting yard,
amongst all the white
wander nocturnal neighborhoods
on tiptoe, on delicate hoof, among
the white rocks;
dribbles give them away.