Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Ronald Reagan

When I Answered “Ronald Reagan”
Melissa Cruz

I guess you would not understand
If I were to tell you plainly, I was dreaming,
Daydreaming, imagining, fantasizing
When I answered “Ronald Reagan”
I can tell you here without import,
Without repercussion knowing
It is never going to happen.

I wandered over beside your cheek
And inhaled the scent of your breath,
Hair and the wafting echo of your sensuous desire.
I could not possibly tell you this in class.
Certainly not or it would have been my ass.
Did you sense my caressing touch upon your neck
Meandering down across your torso
Absorbing every detail of your flesh
As I gazed deeply into your eyes?
I told myself I had to stop.

While I rushed through your dumb questions,
I delved into another fantasy propounding
All the inner secrets of your loving, tender, soft embrace.
I could not tell you this in class….
I gazed over at your desk as you checked on all the rest
And imagined; I could kiss and bite your tempting flesh
While you made every single effort to withstand
My increasingly aggressive, mounting, erotic wander.
Oh! But you would not glance over at me,
For if you had, you would have seen
The visage of a hungering, thirsting, insatiable beast
Craving every drop, every bite, every delicious taste of you.

I imagine you would have resisted
Had I grabbed and fed upon you as I wished it.
And if you did, I would have told you
“Resistance is futile, weak fool!”
Certainly, I could not tell you this in class.
Well I could, but your ass’d be grass.
Oh! But how I wish I had.
For if I had, you would lose sleep, tormented,
Unable to imagine the depths to which I dived
Within the short span of a stupid quiz.
Don’t you wish you had not asked?
With every utterance, I gain strength and become more daring.
Surely, you must agree it is a small miracle
I answered only one question wrong.

Now you know how much I want you,
And long to feel, and taste, and be with you.
Now I have admitted all my secret thoughts,
And grown accustomed to the throbbing,
Crushing, overwhelming sexual hunger.
Now I have cleared the air and my lusty mind.
Now I have released my intense yearning
Into the vast cosmic manifestation.
Having no other purpose,
This poem has accomplished
The inconceivable, insurmountable, volatile task
Of explaining what the fuck I was thinking
When I answered “Ronald Reagan”

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