He parks his rusted truck by screen one
The movie's done but light remains
Night air tastes like oil and rain
His hook drops deep in silver chains
Reel ghosts gather where the screen went black
He casts his line past the ticket shack
No feature plays no coming back
Just water rising on the track
Speaker poles lean like dead pine trees
He digs up worms from coffee tins
The concession stand sagged at the knees
Now holds the tide in rusted bins
Marquee letters spell nothing now
He feels a tug sets hook with force
The screen exhales a silver vow
A bass breaks surface charting course
Reel ghosts gather where the screen went black
He casts his line past the ticket shack
No feature plays no coming back
Just water rising on the track
Headlights sweep the weeds once a year
Locals talk of lights beneath
He checks his watch shifts weight and gear
Breathes slow through teeth a diver's breath
Dawn cracks the horizon pale and thin
He packs his catch in ice and paper
The drive-in swallows night again
No credits roll no final caper
Reel ghosts gather where the screen went black
He casts his line past the ticket shack
No feature plays no coming back
Just water rising on the track
Reel ghosts gather where the screen went black
He drives off with the morning on his back
