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By: David Steven Simon

Ever since I was Late, Late Show little

I have lived in

A house bursting

with shimmering strangers

Whom I have never met

And cannot live without.

They are the movie spirits

Who have shrugged off time and death

With throaty, cocktail party laughs

Drenched in bone slinky gowns

And all night tuxes

Lit by the light of Hurrell

Diffused by plumes of Chesterfield smoke

Armed with trigger happy flasks

Tappy feet

Swooning kisses,

And jazzy bursts of

syncopated banter

That clicks and clacks like

The fascinating rhythm of a reporter’s

hot story keyboard

They’re clowns

who can tumble in a windstorm

cling for dear life to the spindly hands of a clock

shyly tip their derbies to flirty ingenues

And twirl their canes like a mini windmill.

They’re coin flipping gangsters

crooning cowboys

twirling dancers

golden hearted harlots

baby faced soldiers

heavy lidded private eyes

and fated romantics

who always suffer from

a collapse of judgement

before love sets them straight

With the wake up call of just the

right kiss.

They are my on-demand friends

Each and every one of them

Who are as dependable as a pulse

And as vital as the stories

As the unpredictable people and

Threatening circumstances

Of my life

Continue to

Deviate from the script

wander off without direction

And fade out

Day after day


A satisfying conclusion

I find that I am happiest

Living here

In this imaginary emporium of mine

With its silver screen walls

flickering light

CinemaScope tenderness

and happy endings

Which are always delivered

In the very dark

That I fear the most.


David has played a role in Hollywood since the 1970's and has written for many of the shows you've grown up with: The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, Mad About You, Full House, Sister,Sister, The Wayans Brothers... to name a few.

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