Drive-In Movie

It saddens me that there are so few drive-in movie theaters still in existence. When I was growing up, there were at least five within a ten mile radius of our home. Going to the drive-in in the summer was a special treat. My parents would dress me and my brother and sisters in our pajamas, fill brown paper grocery bags with home-popped popcorn (the snack bar at the drive-in was far beyond their budget), load us all into the station wagon, and head to the Drive-In. Back then, they charged by the "car-load", and it would cost $5.00 per car for admission. The Drive-In had a playground, a snack bar, and tinny-sounding metal speakers mounted on poles. The speaker hooked onto the driver's side car window. There were always Disney cartoons and two movies.

The Drive-In was also a staple of the dating scene, involving other, more unmentionable activities.

Here's my poem.

Pajama pygmies swing and slide
Crisp cotton cavorters
Scatter through a clown's grin
Speaker static calls cartoons

Pencil grey etching on an empty page
Dusk curtsies to darkness
Headlights blink a white rhythm
To a crazy car horn crescendo

Tapdance of toes on a dashboard stage
Mosquitoes mambo in
Whispers at windows startle
Fingertips fire popcorn pillows

Lacy steam curtains drape inky glass
Fingers fumble blindly
Trace a salty shoulder
Foreign braille of a breast

Back seat beauties barter
Trade passion for a promise