Dueling Drive-Ins


Hot summer nights might mean
A trip to the drive-in—
Celluloid heroes 50 feet high—
In the Austin of my childhood,
Two theaters dueled for patrons
The Burnet and the Chief.

The Burnet sported a cowboy,
The Chief an Indian—
Even on the movie theaters,
They battled on like giants.

The Chief had an edge for children
Such as we -- they had a playground.
We would swing and shout and
Race like wild things, stopping to glance
Up at the towering screen, attention caught
For a brief instant
By the film our parents had come to see.

The drive-in was a treat
Rare enough to be special.
Sleeping bags in the rear of
The station wagon…
Lying on the hood back against
The windshield…
There were many ways to “watch,”
Preferred to sitting on the seat like church.

Popcorn and pickles,
Cola and candy,
Theater food with
Outdoor spice.

Many years later,
When I was married and grown
All drive-ins showed was porn
And B-grade Sci Fi,
The Chief and Burnet long, long gone.

The theaters had lost their mystery,
All the towering screens torn down,
Or pressed into another service,
Like backdrop for a swap meet…

A magic era ended by
A city growing up.