Outside Time

When it was summertime, and the livin’ was a vibe, a crocodile power wash cold shower 101° on the radio dial, the livin’ was not about to steal my sunshine honey, I wouldn’t steal theirs; the livin’ was a they, a he-she-history-herstory-my story-our story in and out, wax and wane comin’ and goin’ sweaty balls and swamp ass swap meet bane, a getchu some ice cream, a sugar cane loco pop, get it before the weathervane melts on the rooftop, deer as big as horses and the horses wantin’ ice baths in the water trough —Go off—Bart knelt down to Eline in a cool Dutch olive grove. 

Some of us liked it hot, some of us made love while the vibin’ was gorgeous, hot nights storms blowin' and AC mornings corpse pose, a hum mum sat nam namah in the pelvic bowl. The vibin’ was a red-tailed hawk, a boardwalk, a blue-tailed skink on the front porch step, lively as the tanned and not-so-sober gentlemen performing for me and the couple thousand other summer revelers perspirin’ and vibin’ and gettin’ byin’ down by the riverside with our banjos and our grooves on Summertime gotta move on, vibin’ gotta stay. Gotta make hay while the cotton is high while the vibin’ is a bike ride, an iced 'ade, a roller coaster ride, a blackberry blueberry biscuit peach pie Seaside high tide outside story time Sorry, not sorry time See you later, alligator time The livin’ was easy for a hot minute the livin’ was fine.

Your summertime Southern girl (accent really comes out here),

Emily Jane