Muncha Bar (Work In Progress) Poem by Paul Wilson

There he go justa stepping down the street
Like a walking work of modern art
Each time he fart him coat float back
Each thought rhyme with him feet in time
A part in whole, a whole in part
A concrete muscle for a heart
A yanking yoyo on a string?
A choking collar on a chain?
A muncha muscle obn a bone!

So when him spoke him coat slide back
Him mouth go slack, and words float out
About the lack of words that rhyme
With a bunkered timebomb heart in time
Inside him as he walk on down
To muncha bar, where angels are

Him go round knocking on each door
When people ask him why he do that for
Him answer them that it's for art
And paradise can not be far
In muncha bar, where angels are

See him walking round and round
Lost in my cousin part of town
But my cousin he just laugh, and say:
‘That man must pay, that gone too far
and try to reach that muncha bar'