February 18, 2012

Backlot

Movie shoots descend in winter,
overrunning our beach town,
talent trailers, rent-a-cops,
cables snaking all around.
Most go along as walking props,
eagerly becoming celluloid clowns.
Make believe takes us over,
we can't escape the magic hand,
what is real, what is phony,
selling our souls
for a one night stand?
We few skeptics
want our town back,
easy money, what a sham.
Only fanatics think it's romantic,
celebrity dreams in Oscar land.