Art Museum Patrons on a Sunday Afternoon

Old men,
With round, Whiskey bellies,
Tug on their serious lapels
and hum at Picasso.

Old women,
With glasses perched on pointed noses,
Jingle the bangles around their wasp wrists
and nod at Monet.

Young men,
With pants tucked into sneakers,
Scratch their 5 o' clock beards
and raise their eyebrows:
A Question.

Young women,
With their painted mouths and curled lashes,
Cock their wide, proud hips
and purse their lips:
A Critique.

They enter clutching the fare for priceless art - a reasonable, twenty-three dollar fee.

And leave with tired feet, puffed chests, and a deluded sense of understanding - the heavier cost by far.