Waiting
Markand Thakar
Artist and Author
The saloon reeking with the smell of potential sex: The men there all but boys.
Female bodies bursting with tendered passion -
In search of desirable and willing maleness -
A maleness enabling the girls to fulfill themselves as women.
The boys await accepting glances -
From eyes of lonely girls.
The girls who will allow the boys to imitate the rites of men -
And sate the basic urge.
There stands a tall, muscular, good-looking boy -
One who swears and cheats and steals.
And is admired by all the girls.
The bar talk is now all surface smart -
And loaded with double entendre.
A fresh and youthful verve pervades the entire scene.
But in truth the girls are just a motley group
Of mostly homely teens -
Whose goal right now is only to get laid -
Or give the impression that they've been.
The boys meanwhile stand by as willing studs -
And await a fateful beckon.
The girls - some still pimply faced -
All once fat or skinny -
Have gained the perfect body now envied by their elders -
But retain as yet the braces on their teeth -
That mark of middle-class conformity.
Not a blow dried hairdo to be found -
Nor clothes like kids from Jersey.
These well-off, spoiled rotten kids -
This upper Eastside crowd -
Do just the opposite.
The clothes they wear don't seem to be worth a cent -
But they cost a pretty penny.
The boys are sporting haircuts of the forties
And wear sloppy rich attire.
These kids are quite secure -
With tax-free, loophole educations, apartments and annuities
And extra money from selling coke.
No problem if they're caught.
Dad's a corporate lawyer.
The tall and muscular boy,
The one who steals and cheats and sells the dope -
Accompanies a bright, tooth-straightened girl.
Together they enter the lady's room.
There they sniff a line.
Back at the bar -
Whether of the mind or in the groin,
The girl gets very sexy.
The two touch and then caress.
Then without a single word -
They leave this trendy bar for kids and saunter to the park.
In the early dawn, beneath a tree -
Behind the Metropolitan Museum of Art -
Their sex was quite routine.
The boy, soon satisfied and bored -
The girl not nearly sated.
She tries her best to urge him on -
To manifest his manhood.
But all to no avail.
She tried a lot of different ways.
Adonis still could not respond.
This dull but handsome Lochinvar was fearful of her words -
Those of sexual shortcomings.
For persist she does to rant and rave -
Of his manhood's untimely failure
"Shut your trap you vicious bitch"
With menacing voice he yells.
But she continues her truthful babble.
He slaps her face, she doesn't stop.
He grabs her by her fragile neck.
She struggles and she tries to scream -
Or maybe just to laugh.
He holds her fast and presses on her slender throat.
The seconds pass and soon become a minute,
At last he lets her go.
Her head snaps back.
No try to make her breathe.
He just ran and hid and cowered there behind a bush.
And lurking there he waited -
And waited.
A SKUNKT Publication
Copyright 1988 - 2010