Reel to Real

Across my eyes the credits begin

And in that moment I become

James Bond, Indiana Jones, Buckaroo Banzai

Their faces on the screen

Twinned with my own visage

Like an overlapping mirror

Until I am no longer a salesman

Or teacher, no corporate drone

Making copies of my life on paper

Here I get to be the hero

For at least two hours

When the horse blazes across the fields

I become the rider

When the tank charges down war torn streets

Or the plane outmaneuvers the enemy

I am briefly at those controls

Here I am the Final Girl

The survivor of the Apocalypse

The romantic lead

Living lives I would otherwise only dream

Lasting now until the end credits roll