Deva Ossig, the landlady (and property owner) turned rogue

Just a couple weeks shy
and seven years ago to the day,
I still remember contractual obligations
our previous residential abode
724 West Railroad Avenue,
Bryn Mawr 19010 zip code
volatile relationship – poisonous
nasty hubris jump/kick started
with aforementioned videre licet, alte Frau
(quite similar to Hamburg

geschkult harsh taskmaster),
whose figurative and verbal drubbings
linkedin with angry bird disposition
twittering toward us
analogous as toxic soundcloud
ofttimes found her ready to explode
lingering hostility snapped,
popped, and crackled dark,
whereby sauerkraut puss
analogous to red hot poker face glowed
until that fateful late June
two thousand and seventeenth day.

Little did we known then,
where contractual obligations
to acquire municipal approval
to legally house borders for pay
she got away without being penalized
nevertheless danger lurked
as well as mice and roaches skittered
like a bag of spilled skittles,
no idea where the little critters went
invariably they scattered

like pigs from a gun after war of words,
and near physical altercation
fisticuffs flew and mutual
(of Omaha) blood red rage
both parties did vent
the closest to homelessness
found Harris family
resigned to live in a tent
when lease would not be renewed
that she who charge sky high rent.
The heavy price to pay living social
along Hoity toity MainLine
Back a small number of years
thee diva of this domicile
exhibited an aura, charisma,
enigma…devoid of any guile
boot of late turned
a cold shoulder to me and I’ll
avoid denigrating, haranguing,
and lambasting said dell lisle

la, whose avoidance
behavior toward me –
who goes a mile
out of her way to ensure
our paths do not cross – noah din nile
per the above –
well, perhaps a slight bit of hyperbole
viz this, mine swift tailored, harried style
per potpourri of
puzzling perturbation evinced
by said olde world germane
German dame we lease this duplex
treating us, as if we committed
some egregious crime
subsequently forced to stand trial
viz aversion toward this convivial,
frivolous and introspective chap
methinks said realtor/renter
joined a coven den
where doe eyed zen of thieves
occupy teaching rubric
of mean-ness while
taking appropriate after paging thru
selective yellow pages
from play book of Sarah Palin
which tension unlikely to cease
for the next nine months till the deed
doth expire, where by this witch a taw
hook cans ass (ours) will be freed
of renting a long and fostered,

roach and fox infested, century21
from once salient sympathetic ear
this now manifested Scrooge like greed
reminding us (essentially
via cessation of any interaction),
how she once did heed
to our various and sundry travails –
though neither myself nor spouse,
the latter whose vociferousness
regularly exudes loathsomeness
toward key per, once a vouch saving
storied angel without fail and indeed
wife tis not shy to vent
where a plethora of expletives lead
rant and rave toward an impending crisis
that will me send out an SOS
ever felt compelled
to join Hemlock society
or drown sorrows in mead
yet disappointment arises,

when formerly positive
dynamic now im peed
did by reasons unbeknownst to me,
who feels grateful ye chanced to read
my babbling of poetically
irrational from a regular Trader Joe,
who doth not sport Harris Tweed
nor (despite any immediate intimations)
doth newt smoke booze nor drink weed.