Drive-In 34

He called it rattlesnake weather,
When the heat hung thick as smoke
Hazing up the car windshields,
The girls gathered in the bathroom,
Adjusting smeared makeup
And too tight bra straps
While the guys went head first
In half melted beer coolers
Like bobbing for apples
So that before the end of the night,
There would surely be a fight
Or a misdemeanor assault
Over not enough or too much
Salt on the popcorn,
And somebody's barefoot sweaty kids
With cherry smash lips would get
Lost from their car or more likely
Intentionally left behind
Like circus orphans in the swelter.





Drive-In 29

The boys wheeled over from the red dirt road
A quarter mile below the theater screen,
In a crazy line of cheap K-Mart bikes,
Tricked out with raised handle bars,
Hard, narrow banana seats,
Topps baseball cards clothes pinned
And fluttering to the rhythm of spokes,
Reggie Jackson and Johnny Bench
Slapped over and over like when
Somebody's step-daddy got into
The wicked apple brandy and
Armed himself with a belt or the
Space heater's broken cord,
The veins at his throat bulging—
The intruders slipped along
The edge of the drive, dodging
The spike strip by the ticket booth,
Then charged down the gravel gut
Of the parking lot, gaining a little
More freedom with each hump
They jumped, gliding like eagles or astronauts—
Then leaving just as quickly by a trail
Through the thicket of pines
Past the grown over bank of Murder Creek.





Drive-In 32

I can't believe he took me to a drive-in,
You know, like everybody knows what
Goes on at those places, but I went along
Because all my girlfriends said he looks good
In those dark t shirts with the one pocket
You know the kind, and the jeans
With patches up and down, the hush puppies,
And he is a smooth looking boy, even
With the splotchy beard that he
Can only half grow, so don't you try
Anything was the first thing I said
After he pulled the front of the car
Up the hump beside the speaker pole.
Now why would I try anything he says
As he slipped his arm around
Behind me and rested it there
So I could feel the muscles in it
Hard and pleasant and I wanted
Him to keep it there, but I thought
About telling him to move it before
He tried something else. Don't nobody
Go to drive-in's no more, I said,
And I popped my gum for emphasis,
Why I heard this place gonna
Close down soon, I said, and I felt
His fingers running strong just under
The edge of my sleeve, and he smiled
At me, just as close as this, and I could
See how bright and nearly perfect
His face was even as the darkness grew.





Drive-In 71

They left The Establishment
Where they had drunk two pitchers,
Without paying their bill, and
The drive-in seemed a safe place
To ride out the acid trip.
But the movie playing was
Creature from the Black Lagoon,
And the ticket booth girl
Whose face melted to bluish
Tints, handed them glasses with
A green and a red lens which
They found inexplicably
Hilarious, and they laughed
Till they realized the screen
Looked the same with or without
Them, the creature about to
Enter their car, and then in
A sudden epiphany
They remembered the bar bill
And saw the cop and soon they
Were hurtling toward home at
Twenty-five miles per hour.





Drive-In 73

He said They Shoot Horses, Don't They
Was the worst movie he'd ever seen,
Talk, talk, talk, dance, dance, dance,
Worrying about some damn broken-
Legged horse from your wussy childhood.
She liked it-- the malcontent female, her
Psychologically damaged substitute partner—
But agreed with him to avoid a fight
And didn't complain when they left early,
Their pickup spattering loose gravel
Against the fence at the back of the lot.
She didn't tell him to take it easy
Or to explain himself because he was not
One to share his feelings easily
And she was not brave enough
Or crucified enough to do anything
About it, yet.


© Tim Peeler 2011