i’m lying to you… after hello i have to, equate & factor, evaluate & divulge what i need to say, to make you indulge even if i teeter in the gray, to strengthen my prose pardon, when i harden displaying a bulge in my Shaw, Kipling, Angelo like approach to coax deep gulps from your throat in hopes, we can elope in our coats, & go take in a show then appreciate it & debate it, over cake & a hot cup of joe or, escape you away, from whomever has you enclosed or, whoever has you in clothes or, whoever badgered, or saddened, or blue & blackened your soul or, whoever said they loved you to death &, left you struggling for breath, before they let your hand go or, whoever’s up next, to score or impress, you more than the rest then spoil you, adore you, while paying your rent or, whoever makes you say yes; or not no, but just maybe just, not just yet, baby or, well, i don’t know; cause, well, i don’t know; i just know the right words to merge, to make you fold; then unfold your curves until you come from odes composed drinking, Brugal & Jamaican Rum i love your smile rude gal; now taste my tongue, chased with your tongue i’m anxious, to say grace then put my face in places, not made for faces; made for fun pardon charming me, for being Langston’s son when my lips go there, it’s crystal clear life for me, ain’t been no crystal stair at 14th Street Union Square, my calypso’s snare & calligraphy’s, figuratively, left my fingerprints, beneath brassieres ever since, i’ve been a thief, her evidence secretes like years, or candles, or Giovanni between the sheets when i philander, with what Vicky seeks you gotta throw the book at me or, just bite your bottom lip, while you look at me behind you from the mirror on the mantel venus... no i can’t understand her or stand up, damn her, with her hooks in me & what’s she cooking me got me lying through my teeth; promoting propaganda