In an empty arcade there is still activity
But none arising from life
Sounds of machines humming and beeping
Their existences clear and free of strife
Bells ring to alert no one of nothing
Digital voices entice the absent to play
They don’t distract their intended targets
To take time to chase their worries away
Oh the pop-a-shot lights
Are ever oh so bright
Offering buttons to press
Promising prizes and tickets to win
As the cabinets all bathe in fluoresce
Waiting for the day’s simulations to begin
Gene G. McLaughlin 2021