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In my unfashionable fashion sense,

The beginning of the 21^st century

Will always be known as

The Era of Brittany & Christina

Low-rise jeans and midriff-bearing tops

The trend of the day

Low-rise jeans accentuating hips,

Signaling that bottom-heavy is “in”,

Tight jeans and smallish tops

Signaling that women all over (White women, in particular)

Are finally comfortable with their god-given thickness

Of course this isn’t this isn’t the style for everybody

Despite fresh ink and navel rings abound,

Everybody doesn’t want to see every body

Playing “show and tell”

 I heard someone on a crowded bus snort

‘Some of these girls need to

Keep their protrusions to themselves

And some of these boys are just as guilty’

I, however, am of the opinion

That something as wonderful as your innie

Or bonita applebum is being exposed

For those who haven’t noticed’

Let me introduce you to the small-of-the-back

The arch, the hella-sexy intersection

Of torso and hips

The origin of your dance floor wiggle

When your boss says “PUT YOUR BACK INTO IT”

Or your lover says, “Baby…put your back into it!”

It’s from right there where you do it

If you can get whatever exposure,

Pleasing or not,

Near the spine’s base is the great equalizer

Everyone has one and it’s magnificent!

Some prefer broad shoulders, a muscle-defined back

Some dig that ‘V’ shape in the front

Between hips and nether regions

Or, in my case, a well-shaped ass

But the small of the back,

A sign of warmer climes

A great place to watch perspiration gather and glisten

To start and finish a massage

If there’s anything better than

A hug around the waist

Warm hands meeting with a rub or clasp there

It’s got to be in the top 10

Hell, Lauyrn Hill said it best:

“Warm as the sun dipped in black

Your fingertips on the small of my back…

The sweetest thing I’ve ever known…”

Wearin’ that half-shirt again ma’am?

 Yep, I’m staring again

Maybe even write a poem or two

I want to lick haiku,

In chocolate,

Off of the small of your back

So, those of you trying to get a grip on your own love handles

Or, like me, Captain Metabolism, built kinda like a mop

Go ahead and rock that belly shirt

Cuz somebody’s enjoying the view