I have never felt like

More of an animal than when

I was on a school bus full

Of boys, a shaken jar

Of bees.

I had forgotten this feeling

Until recently, when driving back

Over a bridge from my grandparent’s house,

I asked my partner to put on

Credence Clearwater Revival.

I was feeling a particular blend

Of freedom and righteousness,

The kind which spurs the horses

Of justice, the same one

Which spawned the words

Of John Fogerty.

By the end of the first guitar strum,

I remembered, brought back

The way you might when your nostrils

Catch the scent of baking flour, salt

And water from the oven.

Except these weren’t warm memories

From my family’s kitchen, cozying me

On a cold winter Saturday.

The chorus brought with it

All those years stuck between

Patch-work, faux-leather seats,

Stuffed away in the back.

Suppressed social scars flooded

Back embarrassment so thick

I felt my heart shiver,

My shoulders curling as I tried

To sink deep into my seat.

A few moments passed

Remembering the horrors of

Those hormone-filled hallways,

Constant jostling of social status,

Before I grounded myself

Again to the steering wheel

In quiet thought the rest of

The way home.