EXTRA

Without a script
I am an extra in this movie,
a face on a crowded street
in some big city—
or feathered Indian that dies
dramatically
circling a wagon train West.

                    I drop my rifle,
                    grab my bare chest,
                    lean back and slide
                    down a paint horse hip,
                    tuck my shoulder
                    and roll to a dusty stop—

an expendable example
on the trail to progress.
I used to get by on less,
but I need the money,
so I play the part:

                    grimaces of futility,
                    but in my eyes:
                    open space
                    prior to
                    its improvement.