Book of random poems

Wall Kickers

He was kicking a wall now, and I couldn't take him seriously. I looked around to see how therest of us felt."Slate 7, take 3!" posed the director, a man who wore glasses to forgive his baldness, "Set"responded the cameraman, who had tattooed only half of himself, "Rolling" even the soundwoman was going along with this. "Action!", and it was confirmed, I was the minority. Notthat that bothered me of course, this was a learning experience, I had to learn when toignore the obvious. These were my colleagues, my mentors, my examples, any superiority Ifelt must me misplaced. This was their realm, mow own reaction was cause forembarrassment. He had stopped kicking the wall now.Now he was acting.His nostrils flared as his voice strained to match their aggression, a feeling he had toconvince himself he was portraying. Inhibitions set aside, replaced with an overwhelmingdesperation for approval. He had no regard for what we thought of him. So long as webelieved him. God, let us believe him.Those who passed on the other side of the street did not question their beliefs. Theirlaughter, tinged with awkwardness, followed their outbursts without fail, like a friend theyjust couldn't shake off. They stared with their blue carrier bags, their dog leads, from theircar windows and their phone cameras and all asked the same question. "Whit is it yerdoin?"I answered some of them. The small boy in the park was as happy as his father had told hehe could be, after he had dispensed the appropriate "pleases" and "thank yous". Othersanswered for themselves, deciding that whatever it was it couldn't be as important asentertaining themselves. In a sense they were right. After all, that is all we were doing. Whowas I to get annoyed, I was merely facilitating someone else's entertainment? Sure, we hada camera, we had a microphone and a trolley to wheel everything in. We had a script, a callsheet, and a schedule. We had receipts, invoices, and salaries. And yet we were justentertaining ourselves too. All I had to do was watch a grown man kick a wall and convincemyself. Convince myself that if I could do that, then I was more important.I plan to make a career of this. Watching men kick walls and standing next to trolleys. I wantto stand and believe them. I want to build my confidence to the point I disregard the bagcarriers, the way everyone else has. Until they want their money that is. But for now, I movethem along."It'll be on YouTube in a few months" I say.He's doing press ups now.