When I Shout, by Scott McDaniel

 
When I Shout,
 
Freebird! Play
Freebird!! I’m really saying,
 
Make me feel
like I felt
when I felt
up Melissa’s shirt
back in ’98
when we were bouncing
around the back of Travis’
microbus, traveling to
a Memphis musicfest.
 
Sure, the song is overplayed,
but Goddamn   when they hit
that first lick, the one that sounds
like   tweety birds, man my eyes close
I fall back to the time I went down
on Melissa after the concert
 
in the woods by Horn Lake Cutoff. October
no mosquitoes, only the park ranger,
70 something — 10 years past
giving a fuck — so we were safe
and young and free, free
 
as a bird which is a line from Freebird which
was the song pouring out of the VW’s windows
like smoke in a Cheech and Chong movie. We
 
started laughing --
got up, naked,
Slow-dancing
       --even did a little spin --
 
and the moon reflected off her teeth
and we were free, free as birds
and playing it pretty
 
pretty for Atlanta

Scott McDaniel
​
The work of Pushcart Prize nominated poet Scott McDaniel has been featured in the San Pedro River Review, Deep South Magazine, Oberon Poetry Magazine, Common Ground Review and The New Guard. He has read throughout his home state of Arkansas as well as Manhattan and Castletowneroche, Ireland. Scott began writing poetry at an early age and was encouraged to do so by his cousin, award-winning inaugural poet Miller Williams. He lives and works in his hometown of Jonesboro, Arkansas; a city outside of Memphis that is highly influenced by the culture of the Mississippi Delta. His writings reflect the unique hues, quirks and broken promises of the modern south.