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: Share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky Share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr Share on Mastodon (Opens in new window) Mastodon Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Share on X (Opens in new window) X Like Loading...