Happening in Greenwich Village

There are three girls—
one is contemplating the ceiling,
one is examining a hole
in her black cotton stocking,
the third is on her hands and knees
rocking slowly back and forth
humming a small tunelessness
punctuated by little yelps, at intervals.
Enter two boys,
one from the left,
one from the right.
The boy from the left walks straightaway
to the girl on her hands and knees,
puts an arm about her middle and carries her
off to the right.
The boy from the right
stops and looks at the girl looking at the ceiling,
then he moves over and looks at the girl
examining the hole in her stocking,
then he goes out, to the left.

Why didn’t you hold up the mirror
that I gave you?