Countdown to Keanu in 3... 2... 1... Who isn’t smitten with an exotic schoolgirl decked in a ponytail, bustier, and pencil skirt? But she has a boyfriend, and not even a pre-matrix squint or coy smile can pry her away. Paula does what Paula does best and dances around as if the viewer gets two videos in one. Spandex and fur bras are the recommended ensemble when dealing with deep feelings. Field trip to the observatory: Keanu mocks his competition because he knows they are nobodies and he sees his reflection in the stars. But they get even, and stabbing a man’s whitewalls is fightin’ words... RACETIME! Keanu and his rival drag down the dirt because the street would be too easy. Who can stay in the car the longest before the earth below becomes a memorial? How simple it is to lose sight of an oncoming ledge in the name of ego and love. Keanu has always been a sad man, but apparently, rubbing a glass jug of milk against your face helps one forget death. The violins play while Paula pours her heart out and Keanu spits out cheese masked as words. This helps console her over her bf’s death and she and Keanu blow out the candles and kiss in an abandoned mansion, as if the evaporating smoke has always been hotter than the flame.
Boyz II Men
Start with the pelvic thrust. This shows that you’re not too hard, not too soft. Careers begin by dreaming in high school, so teachers should encourage students to bypass classwork in favor of sleep. Nothing says success like synchronized dance steps from well-dressed, young black men. Changing outfits frequently is integral to a four-part harmony. Furthermore, never underestimate a man sporting the combination of a blazer, denim shorts, and a cane. Standing above an oversized birthday cake for no apparent reason is like… standing above an oversized birthday cake for no apparent reason. But sitting outside the bathroom stall of a shitting man is the master plan to getting noticed. Sharing your spotlight with never-will-be’s benefits no one. But the bond that East coast families share is thicker than all of the muck in the Atlantic. The neon from the sign in Geno’s Steaks looks simply… mouthwatering. Philadelphia is the City of Brotherly Love because everyone in the group is a lead singer. Nothing is more intimate than someone saying they’re kickin’ it just for you.
Color Me Badd
I Wanna Sex You Up
George Michael, Kenny G, and Milli Vanilli walk into a bar... Trying to look hard in front of a tattered brick wall never works. Perhaps because hoop earrings that dangle like limp wrists are the antithesis of masculinity. Watching a videotape of a music video is more arousing than porn. Big Brother (who looks like a Sasha) watches everything you do in an elevator. Hence, blondes who resemble foreign love interests in spy movies make terrible night watchmen. Sitting on a man’s lap leads to sex. Kissing a neck leads to sex. Men who tweeze their brows leads to sex. Despite trying to look comfortable, it’s obvious that some men don’t belong in the boardroom. Dance in your office. Dance under a bridge. Dance because the black man is the worst dancer in your predominantly white group! Friends who have sex in different locations at the same time can be colored any adjective they want. Why is front-of-the-limo sex never alluded to? Is there such thing as wanting to sex someone down? Sometimes, it’s about nothing more than sex.
Love Will Never Do Without You
Janet touches herself and the world melts. The human body provides the ultimate silhouette, and she personifies outstretched flesh as being the most natural of landscapes. Chiseled men in speedos flip through the air and make the molecules jealous and is there a better location for interpretive dance than a desert? Janet has decided that even in black and white, blondes have more fun. But black men still have a monopoly on running, and a young Djimon Hounsou sprints into a successful new career. An interracial relationship is the new eye candy, and every dentist will tell you that Antonio Sabato Jr. hurts women’s gums, dimples like honeyed caverns. His pelvis caresses Janet’s on multiple occasions and high-waisted jeans are not wasted on her hips. Janet’s boobs are the perkiest. Her cheekbones are the excavation archaeologists dream of. That mole deserves a video if its own.
Daniel Romo is the author of When Kerosene’s Involved (Mojave River Press, 2014) and Romancing Gravity (Silver Birch Press, 2013). His poetry can be found in The Los Angeles Review, Gargoyle, The Good Man Project, Barrelhouse, and elsewhere. He holds an M.F.A. in Creative Writing from Queens University of Charlotte, and he is an Associate Poetry Editor at Backbone Press. He lives in Long Beach, CA and loves football, but he bleeds Dodger Blue… a lot... More at danielromo.net.