Times Squared

Usher scans phone, and then ushers us in.
Speakers announce that the show must begin.
Actors today facing no easy task --
It is the audience that wears a mask.

First intermission: we're all at the bar,
buzzing: the playwright, have they gone too far?
Hamlet a woman? Petruchio the shrew?
What else is new, all in all, much ado.

End of the show, we spill out to the street.
Some rush away, feet that measure concrete.
Some even TikTok while they're on the go:
Excellent, horrible, or just so, so.

Avenues crawl with determined commuters
glued to their phones. Some whiz by on their scooters
trying to get to a better tomorrow.
Some beg or steal -- as to most -- they just borrow.

Grey and subdued as the bright LCDs
glare at each other, and tease follows tease,
Broadway as busy as ever it seems.
Something is missing, though.  Must be my dreams.