Saturday, February 10, 2018

Taking Poison at the Back of the Bus

The older boys held court
At the back of the bus.
Bumping its way home
They were released from the constraints of school
Now sequestered in rows of seats with steamed up windows
They were free to explore adolescence, 
Testifying to fantasies and fallacies
Free to laugh and spew
They joked and bullied
They tried out words that they may have heard
In locker rooms,
Basements and
Back yards.
Spurred on by laughter and not under oath
They crossed lines that they did not clearly see.
They talked of cars and cigarettes and sex,
And there was much talk of women and girls.
Desperate and driven,
Pinups were unfolded,
Marilyn Monroe was objectified,
There were how tos and why nots,
Misogamy was molded
At the beginnings of compass-less voyages…
Filled with flawed foundations
and lurid impressions
That might span well into the future.


The girls mostly sat in the middle seats
Sisters, shoulder to shoulder
They took on taunts and teases
Whispering both nervous giggles and guttural groans
Arms tightly folded across their breasts
Mostly in fearful silence,
Seldom having been empowered
To challenge or chastise.
They may have been curious too,
We all were,
Of boys and men,
Girls and women,
And of love;
Of the dance that gave us music
With such a driving beat
But with no sure steps.

We learned from uncertain sources
As we took our daily dose
Of poison
From the back of the bus.



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