The song was everywhere – blasting from scratchy makeshift car stereo systems, pouring from porches, piercing through the dull heat of summer. The girls sang along to each lyric, feeling the taste of the new words in their mouth, trying it out, enjoying it. Pointing to each other and singing, Can I kick it? YES YA CAN!
Jodie felt something pulse inside her when she heard it, like the beat of the song she could feel in her rib cage, forcing her to move, to bounce. She’d sat at home, her finger hovering over the Record button on her mom’s radio, waiting, sometimes for hours, for that earnest beginning, the soft thuds that opened into the DJ’s scratches and the drop of the beat, for the radio announcer to say, And here we go with the new one from our favorite rap trio…
Now, there was her own scratchy copy she could play whenever she wanted. On days when Mariana was busy with her family and Bianca’s mom shuttled her off to Cape May for the weekend, Jodie would play it loud in her room, over and over again. She practiced dancing like the girls did on MTV, rolling her shirt up and tying it in a knot above her belly button, shaking her underwear-clad bottom in the mirror. Repeating over and over again that woozy question, Can I kick it?
Published by The Hand & The Hand Breadbox Chapbook Series