A POEM BY LUCAS CARPENTER

           Ellsworth Kelly

   AT THE MOON-LIT DRIVE IN
                           for TJ Worthington


   Dead for years,

   the last show forgotten,

   the Moon-Lit Drive In

   is three-feet deep in grass and broomstraw,

   speakers gone from their askew posts,

   refreshment stand with plywood projection

              booth on top,

   caved in, burnt out,

   floor covered with broken glass and grainy

             asphalt shingles.

   But the four-story screen

   this bright night

   has not a black gap on it,

   moon-covered it glows blank,

   stands impassive, strong:

   Ahab's white, Bartleby's wall,

   leaning on the warm hood of your pickup,

   me finishing the last of the wine,

   you weaving up at the titanic square of  

              moon.


                         ----Lucas Carpenter



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