Poetic Play

It's a fake fight all right.
Guy swings a punch,
smacks his own palm

while the other grabs
at his jaw,
takes a dramatic dive.

Later, a gun full of blanks is fired
and the villain
pulls the plug

and out pours the phony blood
all down his shirt.
It looks real, you whisper.

But what's it matter
how genuine it looks
if you know it’s not.

Guy kisses the girl in the end,
less passionate than it appears
of course
but still, those were real lips at least
and they did touch
for at least five seconds.

But, I don’t leave the theater
all dreamy like you do.
Her husband was in the audience.

I know the hero doesn't
get her in the end.
Besides, he's not even a hero.

He's just written that way.
You go to sleep beaming.
I stay up and write . . .

so many punches to pull,
blanks to fire, kisses to fabricate.
My dumb audience awaits.

John Grey