Work Text:
the tinsel-townies think you’re one of ‘em,
and the truth is, the gig ain’t bad. the headset,
the walkie-talkie holstered at your hip,
talking in lingo you’ve only heard before
in movies
about movies—
and the food. god, the food. set-lingo
calls catering crafty, and that’s gotta be
short for witchcraft, ‘cause the food
is freaking magic: taquitos and bagels
and M&M’s and popcorn
and chocolate chip cookies as big as your hand
and little bite-sized sandwiches with toothpicks
speared through ‘em and
(and you never have to worry about saving it
for Sammy, ‘cause there’s always enough
for both of you.)
the first AD says she’ll give you a reference
the next time you apply for a shoot.
you say you’ll take her up on that.
from across the set, another PA
gives you a thumbs up. you give one
right back, grinning wide
around a mouthful of chicken taquito.
in the city of make-believe,
what’s the harm in pretending
you could have this?