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