When one performs a musical’s premiere
The wait for feedback seems well nigh eternal
Will critics rave? Will audiences cheer?
Will chipper chatter spread or rants infernal?
Will people sense the spilled ink, sweat, and tears
That brought the show so suddenly to life,
Comprised of Broadway vets and volunteers
All balanced on a sharpened gypsy’s knife?
And when they do, it’s mixed: one thoroughly
Adores the luscious score, one finds it trite,
One hates the sad, one hates the comedy,
But great performance makes a pleasant night.
And hearing those discordant points of view
Makes subsequent performances feel new.