Extra

Every day is another scene on plastic benches with

prop newspapers while two leads take turns on the tire swing.

Sometimes forty dollars isn’t worth it so I avoid the set altogether

and sneak across back lots before stumbling into one more role.

Two hooded men pull off the slick bank heist yet

hesitate to recite their next lines because I cut into the long take.

Chewed out by the director, I’m still handed a check.

Another late lunch some fry cook reheats a burger for me.

Sure beats the days I’d cater cast members without costumes

and a single thank you as I refilled scrambled eggs for minimum wage.

Back at the apartment the door is shut and I cut to lopsided cushions

to tune into today’s scene with me in the background of Hollywood dreams.