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About Rome

Now, listen, chile—erotic-massage ain’t just hands goin’ rogue. It’s ‘bout them nerves, them tingles, wakin’ up stuff you forgot you had! I’m over here cacklin’, thinkin’ ‘bout some fool tryna act cool while they slippin’ off the table, all oiled up! “The limit exists only in the soul,” Godard said—well, these folks’ souls must be limitless, ‘cause they out here buck naked gettin’ kneaded like biscuit dough! Hella funny, but I’m judgin’ too—don’t tell nobody, I’m secretly jealous! Ain’t nobody rubbin’ Madea’s bunions like that!

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Next, I wander over to the park by the church. It’s a beautiful spot, but today it’s packed. Kids running around, dogs barking, and this one kid is crying because his ice cream fell. I feel for the kid, but also, I’m like, “Welcome to life, buddy!” But then, I see this couple having a picnic. They’re all lovey-dovey, and I’m just there, single as a Pringle, feeling a bit salty.

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