Into the past Finding a place on a street with phone booths Cell phones yet invented and many buildings with diversity Created out of finacial necessity Not by a forced "WOKE"agenda We were all free to speak Just a past memory today canceled by the ruthless elite I walked unjudged and free Finding the building with the fire escape as frontage Where a dog seeks refuge upon Only to squat and defecate onto the sidewaik below Marking the address of a friend and his wife Through a unlocked broken door Up a noisey set of stairs Through a heavly locked apartment door I am greeted by my friend and his cats The cats have thier places In various locations with defications Their box has not been emtied in weeks All leaving a bitting odor In sea of clutter Known as chaos In a unkept human presence Yet we sit In a confined human space Speaking on numerous subjects He has left his govenment job Benefits and all To become a writer But, also a promoter of punk bands to pay for this exsistance In this place and time To end up about my poetry As his wife looks on In a attentive blank stare Her ******* are huge Intact No restrictions In a ******* T shirt We are young Leaving me to wonder Is it my friend Or his wife I come to visit? I concude that I am a ****** Not a poet In this time and place He hands me a pen and paper Encouraging me to write poetry I write with puff and beer in hand As cover for my alternative motive I write distracted by her Fulfilling my friends desire To obtain and pocess What I write Never to be seen by me again But,possibly heard somewhere In a punk rant