between pictures (narrative)

pumps drunk with oil, dance like prehistoric locusts on the hills to lax, people fill their tanks in flights of fancy, actors wait tables with a method they can't share, wait for what's next, wait for the big screen in disrepair, i mean, despair, i mean, that actor standing there, i mean, are we all not actors?, and the whole wide world our stage?, nah, some are worthy writers, with the grit to hit the page, to be or not be, now, just part of the heartbeat in l.a.