Just like that

brown paper bag,

her ninnies began to sag.

But it didn’t make her feel

bad to have holes in both her pockets.

Neither did she feel poor,

just rubbing two nickels together,

waiting for her next out-pour.

Dancing drops in summer’s drought,

not that she had any doubt

that her girth, had given supple-supply

for every one of her babies.

And just like that,

Baby!

We’d be,

just fine.