There is this one word, mmh! A poem by Tom Mukasa

There is this word, mmh!

He walks with a bounce and sagging pants,

his over-size air sneakers, red and white,

imitations to a brand by Jordan,

lean with reed like body almost no muscle,

skin tone hidden by dragon scales' tattoo,

'mmh! Go ahead mmh!' There is that word again,

voice raised, delivered with force,

for the benefit of all of us hearing,

such a time when one begs not to listen,

a noon sun warms an otherwise chilly day,

a couple from lunch-dinner walk hand in hand,

giving the loud mouthed profanity dropping boy a wide berth,

'yo mmh! Go on man, I don't give a....,

I said it mmh! Yeah, yeah, yeah,'

he shakes a fist and head while talking,

I slow my pace to make distance between,

other people are hearing the diatribe,

 a senior would be traveler waiting for a bus,

pulls at his now gray shock of afro, his eyes on the boy,

his face pulled as it registers the word mmh!

meanwhile the boy mixes profanities to boost ego,

the person on the other side of the phone,

must be laying it on harder, faster, a match,

last night, 5 boys quarreled over money,

they turned on one of them whom they beat,

all the while, the beaten kept saying the word,

as he was pleading with them not to continue,

four pairs of hands and legs is a rain of blows,

'I thought we were mmh!' He pleaded,

'we are mmh! Don't hurt me mmh!'

a woman who must have known them, 

shouted a warning, she threatened to call 911,

the group run off in different directions,

this one word baffles me, it has been around,

used, abused, avoided, held on grudgingly,

this word should be patented, I tell you.