Shimmy shimmy coco pop

On Irving Place, awaiting an audition slot, I watched some black teenage boys ogling some black teenage girls playing Double Dutch. The girls gracefully jumped in between the spiraling ropes and skipped joyfully to the rhythm of clapping hands. Every now and again, a boy would infuse himself into the whirling twine and bring everything to a jarring stop. Laughter all around. I then turned around to the library display case behind me and saw this:



Fitting.