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Extras
Only when my costume’s
Been hissed at with steel
Do my garments ripple in small, stormless waves.
Only when my mask
Has been greased in pale mud
Do my blemishes blend with the sea of my face.
Only when my hair’s
Met a shower of glue
Does it cow to the waves that my fingers might make.
Only when my prop
Has been sharpened in stone
Does it shimmer like sun-shatter left in a wake.
Why preparation
To such a degree
When an extra’s the part you’re most likely to play?
True, when you’re starring,
I’m off to the side,
Doing my best to stay out of your way.
But I have a stage,
As do you, in the mind,
Somewhere my name’s at the top of the bill.
There, I’m flood-soaked
And pregnant with lines
And you’re in the dark standing perfectly still.
Oh, noble strangers,
Who pass through my life,
Storied and nameless, busy and kind.
There in the passing,
Your extra I’ll be,
And in my performance, maybe you can be mine.
Copyright ©
Daniel DuBois
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