who da man? poetry watching my man talk, i felt a sense of pride not because i believed but because i liked the way he talked (and perhaps the way he walked) and how there was no fear to be disagreed with so long as the conversation kept truckin on. Share this: Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr Click to share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X Like Loading...