the year is vague.
somewhere in the late sixties,
when my father,
with his turquoise
chevrolet impala packed his seven
children in
to take them to the drive in.
I remember the movie. mutiny on the bounty.
with marlon brando.
we lay on the roof of the car,
on the hood, sprawled
out under the stars,
not caring about the movie,
the static filled metal
speaker hanging in the window.
the swings and playground
at the front
held more interest as did
the oversized shrimp
rolls from the concession
stand. deep fried and greasy.
popcorn and sodas.
together my brothers and I would
go to the bathroom,
astounded by the bathtub
like trough that we had to stand
over and pee in.
with other men and boys no
less. quickly we zipped up
and ran out of there.
my mother may have been
in the car,
bit I have no recollection
of her in the front seat.
I just remember my father,
snoring, sound asleep
as we left the car
and roamed the graveled
hills of the lot, our shadows
flickering under the bright
wide screen.
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2 comments:
What a beautiful poem. Small suggestion --I think it might be even tighter if you take out the lines "I remember the movie, Mutiny. . .
And just jump to:
We lay on the hood of the car, sprawled
out under the stars.
(We wouldn't need both "we lay on roof of car, on the hood.) Don't need the "no less" later in poem. Just say "with other men and boys."
Those are small small suggestions in a very evocative poem. Nice.
Oh yeah --one more small thing
I think this poem starts with the line:
When my father took
his turquoise
Chevrolet Impala packed
with his seven children
to. . .
Or maybe just:
I remember when my father
took his Chevrolet Impala packed
with his seven children
to the drive-in movies.
We lay on the hood of the car, sprawled
out under the stars.
And then go on.
It really is a wonderful poem. It must be. I keep coming back to it.
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