The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Bathing in the Aqua Regia aka A Proper Blowjob

Never fail to brush your teeth of the mundane
before you step into the regal robes of the denuded;
Comb your hair soft and curly in anticipation of
the impending entanglement: fingers flailing to 
respect the right to breathe while pulling down on
the maelstrom's slippery pistonations of an 
eager aperture enveloping the prey it worships in
utter adoration calculating the most delicious 
tongue tracings to extract the musky nectar of 
unhoarded moaning grunts awash in sweaty abandonment
turning the adonis belt into an unlocked treasure
trail of flayed open heat and heaving, the mind darkening
cliff gives way to flight over a sunny canyon vista
life backflashing until every force remains at bay
the feather balance swings gently, pendulously while
Adam stands at the base of the tree and looks up
with eyes closed tightly and wincing, surging like a
battlecruiser fully loaded upon the swell of tsunami 
waves ready to spill over before receding beneath
the utter need of the moment to be a minute swinging
upon the trapeze of delight and stolen breaths gagging
to tease from borrowed succor those sweet pearls 
of cowper's dew that trumpet the impending fall
of Jericho's restraint that grasps the neck around
the untethered writhing of a swollen trunk heavily 
fermented in strawberry-fallen syrup, the nostrils 
curl as toes flare and ardent craving blossoms into 
existential need; finger-curled locks become clinched like
a hammer holding its recoil with seizured convulsions
held in by wolf howl cornered teeth bared and afraid
to choke the doll's head off with slobering eyes rolled
back into the thrust of hips joining the ancestral 
plane to stake his birthright in a slay of conquest
celebrated with attaboy accolades dripping down his
butt crack that throbs as hairy as it is dankly matted 
muscles piledriving a willing throat who tongue-dances
around the candy pole, tootsie pop licking the golden
orb to its lucious unleashing of creamsicle dreams
the mouse pulls the lion's tail's thorn from its finger
in a fountain of youth-vigor-full disyearnings
testicular toothpaste squeezed out to the last hurrah
the empty drawnback shoreline inundated in juicy jubilees
homo erectus laid spread eagle across the king bed 
canopy after a jungle rainstorm subsides into sunstreams
the hungry peach swallowed leaves only grinning drips
so ripely hanging like a cloud over the unabridged soul
defenestrated onto the punji stick clarity of another
meal taken and bestowed upon the elven charms of the
the conjuring mage who draws out the last chakra and
plucks it back into a boyhood jelly blush of contrition

gently headlain among the caressing fingertips of the
spinal afterglow, as the astral rift slowly heals
into an oxytocin aftermath of goodwill among men
and whatever else roams these pridelands we rule,
the porcelain urinal calls for an unbaptism of waters
and a caloric sacrifice to hail a new generation rising,
vigorated sighs left syncopating the warmth of lying in
the long and lingering lulls of a pig in his loblolly lay.
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©2025 Mark Daniel Milbocker  All rights reserved.