Lets Try Verse

Evening at the Museum
By: Larry Hyatt

Two women sit comfortably, legs crossed,
On a bench in the park,
Waiting to start,
The night shadow poking its head,
Knowing the queue will get their fate when dark.

Scantily clad, even obscene.
Smoking, trails rising to the street light,
Trying to get away like so many young girls,
Childhoods stained by awkward moves.
But, remembered through opened arm twirls.

Small talk, girl talk, boy talk, sex talk,
They’ll whisper and holler,
All for the dollar,
Metered time for only the boy,
“Stay and play. I’ll blow your mind.
Whatever, I won’t decline.”
They’ll hear it again and again in the night,
The low guttural sounds of unspoken joy.

One of two women,
Comfortably standing on a street corner,
The park bench taken,
The love there bending forward,
Hands griping a waist,
She waits for another self
To hear that sound that lets her go.

But no,
The night is long.
Then comes desperation,
And to run would be futile.

They need each other.
Two women,
Comfortably sitting on a bench in the park,
Smoking, coughing, trying to hide,
Lighting a pipe, no desperation now,

 But the museum can see them.

Two women,
Comfortably sitting on a bench in the park,
One waves her hand and runs for cars,
The other works the bars.
The bench, now not taken;
The park, alone and dark.
The museum’s eyes close.
It condones.
While two women,
Finally, go to their homes.