Nicki slaps a bare foot against
hot macadam and tells me,
cool, girl,
her caramel-colored fingers
stretching out the, c-o-o-l;
rich mama's in the balcony of
the Bijou, she says
and I don't have to sit here
flappin' my knees to keep cool
and so she takes my hand
and leads me to where
icy pops of,
blue,
green
and cherry trickle down
naked breasts and
bellies
this is too cool,
rich mama and baby
at the kiddie matinee
all this and five big ones
ahead
not bad when there's not much
else to do on a hot day
on the steps
of a brownstone