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.