Poem: everyone believes/they’re a matinee idol/the hero not yet heralded/holding the sun in their palms
An arcadia of imagination
instructing the moon to tap dance
in their locked away heart
everyone believes they are a
matinee idol
the star of their own personal silver screen
the hero not yet heralded
but are to be one day very soon
for they are
the one off once in a lifetime creation that can hold the sun in their palms
instruct the moon to tap dance
and you find these Tinseltown forgotten poets of the forgotten life
in the business offices of work
the deli on the corner where existence moves soporific
the milkboy delivering at 5am in the cold
the women loaded to the gills at their bingo night
gals tearing betting slips up post- the 5.40 jumper as the yellowsun fades over the track
the dude in the 3 dollar bar downing another beer in the hope something somehow might occur finally
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