Our season chopped off at the knees, Covid killed.
Our Urinetown canceled, and our Something Rotten,
Such wonderful shows! May they not be forgotten!
Such wonderful shows! May they not be forgotten!
So here is my poem, because it's tradition,
An annual event, like our annual audition,
But this year, a shorter, Pandemic Edition.
So last January -- remember pre-doom?
When people could gather, all in the same room?
We hosted a reading of my newest show,
Called Bloody King Oedipus! (Wouldn't you know?)
A new G&S comic tragic burlesque,
And based on the Greek incest-murder grotesque.
But when we can stage it is anyone's guess(k).
Last March we had opened a near sold-out run
Of Head Over Heels, full of big sexy fun,
The songs of the Go-Go's, and dancing like mad,
Among the most fun New Line actors have had!
But halfway through running, Dark Fate interfered!
The theatres closed; the Pandemic premiered!
So March the Fourteenth,
We shut down.
Disappeared.
And now we just wait.
And we wait.
And we wait.
To once again gather and sing and create,
For Americans finally to quit being dipshits,
To wear the damn mask without bitching like nitwits!
We must think of others now, our only choice;
So raise your mask-muffled and virtual voice,
And dream of the day we can once more rejoice.
Stay Safe and Have a Happy New Year!
Long Live the Musical!
Scott
P.S. If you're a glutton for punishment, here are my year-end poems from 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017. 2018, and 2019.
An annual event, like our annual audition,
But this year, a shorter, Pandemic Edition.
So last January -- remember pre-doom?
When people could gather, all in the same room?
We hosted a reading of my newest show,
Called Bloody King Oedipus! (Wouldn't you know?)
A new G&S comic tragic burlesque,
And based on the Greek incest-murder grotesque.
But when we can stage it is anyone's guess(k).
Of Head Over Heels, full of big sexy fun,
The songs of the Go-Go's, and dancing like mad,
Among the most fun New Line actors have had!
But halfway through running, Dark Fate interfered!
The theatres closed; the Pandemic premiered!
So March the Fourteenth,
We shut down.
Disappeared.
And now we just wait.
And we wait.
And we wait.
To once again gather and sing and create,
For Americans finally to quit being dipshits,
To wear the damn mask without bitching like nitwits!
We must think of others now, our only choice;
So raise your mask-muffled and virtual voice,
And dream of the day we can once more rejoice.
Stay Safe and Have a Happy New Year!
Long Live the Musical!
Scott
P.S. If you're a glutton for punishment, here are my year-end poems from 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017. 2018, and 2019.
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