The Man Behind the Man

Lean and tall, and black behind dark specs He was a quiet breeze passing by He paused I was perched on a pedestal I choose, Right inside Paris Blues. "the man behind the man" Said he has eagle eyes, And his mother taught him well, And his father was tough on him, And he's the baddest of the eldest. He handed me blood red tomato, crushed in a bottle It was fresh from the store; I shared fried chicken. Said he was flirting and feeling his way near "But I'm married." I said. His long legs carried him out, to the curb He looked up and down Adam Clayton Powell, Jr. Boulevard And then, he vanished. So much for the man behind the man, My hands were tied. *