For A Better Propaganda

Pretentious Roman Numeral Poetry

I.

i wish i could write like
the “spoken word girls”
can belt out poetry,

like weapons.

II.

i’m
walking quietly down the road,
she jumps and i avert my gaze,
some would say the evil of other men
shames me, still
the great lengths i travel
to prove my innocence
to unaccompanied strangers

III.

the waitress hands me the check
and smiles. i wonder if she smells my
cologne, wants to fight the girl i’m with,
will blow this tip on blunts on booze,
like a normal person would