poem:  Hollywood Numbers Game

poem: Hollywood Numbers Game

12 sweating tourists
squinting in the sun
walking down the boulevard
looking for some fun
“Where are the big stars?  
Where’s all the glamor?” 
as the sun beats them
like a white hot hammer

11 starving students
dreaming lonely dreams
will they wake to cries of joy? 
will they wake to screams? 
study hard, work hard
pass every test
when they hit the real world
they’ll give their theories a rest

10 old wannabes
decades past their prime
long past their sell by date
long out of  time
hanging out at the beach
looking for a chance
hoping some blind fool
will invite them to the dance

9 production artists
slaving through the night
working cheap, losing sleep
to get the look just right
they follow instructions
right down to the letter
then the director says: 
“Fix.  Make better.”

8 patient waiters
twiddling their thumbs
hustling tables
till their big break comes
every meal you order
can become an audition
“Do you want a turkey?  
A ham?  Or a pigeon?”

7 scheming producers
standing in a row
each has a pitch
he thinks will make him dough
7 scheming producers
trying to earn your trust
each has a golden pitch
that’s going to go bust

6 drug dealers
outside looking in
thinking their rat race
is a better one to win
their product sells best
depending on its purity
from that perspective
it’s better job security

5 hungry agents
scrounging for a dollar
riding on their clients
like fleas on a collar
“Deal me in!  Cut me a slice!  
Give me a piece of that!” 
the dogs grow thin thin thinner
while their fleas grow fat fat fat

4 union workers
fighting for each job
remembering better days
when they were run by the mob
each eyes the others
with looks of friendly hate
“Every job you take, my brothers,
is food off my plate.”

3 bitter scribes
counting out their money
“I should make twice as much
because I’m twice as funny.” 
“’Twice as much’? You’re a lox! 
Both of us have to carry you.” 
“’Twice as funny’? Don’t make me laugh. 
My grandmother could bury you.”

2 big name actors
jostle for credit position
each wants the other
to be forced into submission
“Me first, title second,  
her name comes third.” 
these points are all moot
if the film’s a turd

1 golden chance
is all you ever get
even if you take it
you’ll live with regret
damned if you do
damned if you don’t
wondering if you will
worried that you won’t


© Buzz Dixon

Writing Report August 4, 2018

Writing Report August 4, 2018