Inspection will NOT take place January 21st, 2025...

but much to my relief, said mandatory inquisition (rather inspection) will take place sixty nine days later (due the math and inform me of any error if applicable), which date will be March 28, 2025.

My entire body electric went into system of the down mode after mistakenly presuming that the triumvirate would loudly rap on our apartment door (B44 in case ye happen to inquisitive). As a result yours truly and the missus knuckled and buckled down into high gear furiously scrambling to complete some grunt work, and tossing out recyclables willy nilly plus bagged tempe intended for a future meal of mine.
At 0700 hours (indicated
courtesy notification slipped under door
less than twenty four hours)
hence foretold ill fate
by property (crooks and quade) management
the head honcho zaftig, kathleen bergen -
no nickname for her yet
(who replaced wanker),
and Rich (text depeche mode) the snitch
at highland manor apartments
re: looming eviction implication
cuz yours truly and the missus
out of compliance
namely unkempt living space
within the walls of apartment b44
after residing within
said low income facility
going on eight years July first
two thousand and twenty five,
we experienced ongoing contention here,
which palpable tension
crackles, pops, and snaps
across the webbed wide world.

Courtesy social media platforms
in tandem with reputable poetry websites
allows, enables and provides
analogous soapbox to vent
after above identified triumvirate
done scrutinizing, interrogating, castigating...

Me and the missus
immediately sprung into action
rather each of our separate nervous systems
underwent uncontrollable bouts
of expansion and contraction,
(where we both
made a beeline for the bathroom)
analogous to severe toothache
necessitating oral surgeon extraction.

Three days later - January 21st, 2025
signals the visitation of inquisition
(cue ominous music)
obscure artificial illumination
looming dark shadows
presaging worse fate than death
rivaling close encounters of the third kind
outer limits of the twilight zone
monstrous sinister forbidding shapes
blotting sunlight plunging
highland manor apartment in total darkness.

Hence aforementioned feeble SOS
cuz our rented one bedroom unit
b44 not in ship shape,
thus me and the wife
not happy campers
(still in shell shock
after seeing the unexpected notice)
possibly forced to live in a tent
among bunch of other homeless people
along skidrow,
thus fruitless effort to yield
and appeal to top banana
figuratively precariously perched
on horns of dilemma
spurred me to posit supposition,
whereby sympathy for the devil witnesses
greater likelihood versus wordsmith
unsuccessfully, nevertheless creatively
blindsiding anonymous readers
spellbound to empty willy nilly
bajillions of dollars
from their pocketbooks
and mail blank checks to yours truly
before coming to their collective
sense and sensibility bound with
pride and prejudice.