fictionsmith

at the end of the trail
when the actors have driven off
when the crew have all gone home
the inanimate objects stay with you

a painting only seen for two seconds
in the dark corner of the warehouse,
the unrealistic prop gun
handled by thug number eight,

a frozen dinner with the label ripped off
exhumed a year after its moment under the lights,
that name placard that you found
and named a character in the film after it

these are the things that laze about you
cheering you on through the sleepless nights
never demanding a deadline
but always offering tales of ‘remember when?’

the objects that taunt you with the future
saying “we might be worth something some day,
if only your vision were to be lauded
by the critic and the consumer”

the unsung heroes that find their way to the garage sale,
or ebay, when the going gets rough
as if the words “it was featured in a film”
might garner you an extra two dollars

mementos and baubles, pocketwatches and shoes,
photoshopped fake families of smiling actors,
these things become as real as any velveteen rabbit,
and reminders that some things can be plucked from the world of fiction.

vcD,
-R