Summer Time

The tune of mister softee in the neighborhood playing softly. Listening to Sade. Avoiding the dudes on their walkies. Raspberry Popsicle. Backyard bbqs. Never argue over anything fickle. Hamburger with cheese. Can you please pass me a pickle. Never in a pickle. Never in a jam. Sun dresses or teeny bikinis beach wear exposing your tan.  Yea it's. Summer. The smell of fun is in the air. Hit the streets of soho for a clean atmosphere. Picnics with your cohorts. Beach bum in your core shorts. Beach volleyball is your sport. Yeaaaaaa.... Summer treats you nicely. Orange Popsicle or fifty cent icee. Highly unlikely you could ever feel bad. Unless the rain comes down and washes away your plans. Let your tats show. As you bar hop. Flip flops on walking in to IHOP. Throw on your favorite high tops. And smile at ladies. That all look good. Exposing their toes. No high socks. Just sandals setting free. Ignoring any scandals, makes the summer complete. Park concerts, in 100 deg weather. But it's whatever, escaping all clothing in leather. It's get better and better. Taking a dip in the pools, must be a fool if you stay inside the house. Unless the AC is blowing through your blouse. Roof top bars. Sunlight chillin. Flavored cigars. Sunsets fulfilling the urge to purge you yearned for so long. Braved the winter so now you ignore the long johns. Hair cuts on the regular cuz of the girls in their dresses so skin tight. All that working out in the winter. Yea thank god you got your shit right. Summer time...