Elegy for a Hollywood Playhouse

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Even the fire that brought down the dingy theater
was set by amateurs, itself was amateurish,
as if the scenery it gnawed just couldn’t nourish
a five-alarmer. The 240-seater
slid ever farther from respect each passing year,
all without notice from the local drama desks.
Here podunk Duses bottomed out in bad burlesque,
bug-bitten socialites realized their family’s fears.
Now, charred and cratered, it at last takes on
some of the grandeur of an odeon.