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Poem
Requisite inspection June 29th, 2022 at Apartment B44

Aforementioned title and following
little known verses of Matthew
finds me feeling squeamish, 
peevish, anguish, et cetera
at our (the missus and mine) digs,
cuz low income rental housing regulations
require safe and secure place to live,
hence unpleasant inspection
scheduled at least once per year 
here at 2 Highland Manor Drive
between 9:00 A.M. and 4:00 P.M.,
the last Wednesday of June 2022
when worse fate than death befalls us.

A triumvirate of persons 
also known as 
(the warden, zaftig and mister snitch)
comprising Property Manager
Regional Property Manager
and newly hired Maintenance Man respectively
will rap on the door or ring sorry excuse for bell
(cue suspenseful music)
before their collective gaze turns toward:

the kitchenette, stealing
a peek into refrigerator, stove,
cupboards, testing our patients
assessing utility room
housing hot water heater
testing smoke detector in bedroom
scanning bathroom
all the while reserving right
to take pictures
inside our unit if necessary.

No matter the missus and me
experienced aforementioned inspection
at least half a dozen other instances
since we lived here circa July 1st, 2017
(plus or minus a decade – ha),
which state inspection
explains metered emission
synonymous with violation,
whereby absolute zero
personal property we utilize
not considered off limits
to inquisitive troupe constituting
above identified higher ups
(reference made to aforementioned
motley management crew).

Now no more time for inane verse,
cuz tis urgent we get down to brass tacks,
yours truly cannot relax
until he and the wife
align figurative ducks in a row
courtesy ventriloquism acts
issuing convincing quacks,
plus suddenly magically enlivened
neatly arrayed knickknacks
threatened with receiving

bonafide paddy whacks
if said tchotchkes misbehave
and exhibit buffoonish antics
subsequently summoned,
instructed, and commanded
to complete x squared jumping jacks
otherwise sent to fabled boot camp
superfluous unwanted playthings
recruited by Salvation Army
filling out ranks of toy story barracks.

Countdown triggers nails
bitten down to quick
golly gosh if only Mary Poppins
who still appears rather gracefully slick
(especially during rainy weather)
at 17 Cherry Tree Lane, London England
could pull off cheap trick
or think super tramping Glinda 
protagonist courtesy film Wizard of Oz
Good Witch of the North

ruler of the Quadling Country
South of the Emerald City,
and protector of Princess Ozma
riding her reo speedwagon
at light speed in nick
of time (in case of flat tire)
she will travel on her
state of the art broomstick,
but unfortunately said 
courteous wonder women
 
long since retired though the former
still residing in her dotage 
at the Banks residence,
nevertheless in an emergency 
either one or the other 
willingly avail themselves 
providing freelance capering 
constituting steep consulting fee services
while comfortably holed up 
in their respective bailiwick.
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