I went to visit these 2 people
at The Hollywood Towers.
all the windows were closed
and it was hot.
I sat in a torn green chair
and we passed the joint about.
Harry and Tilly had been shacked
5 months.   that’s a long run
in this town.
so I sat there and we passed the joint
and I gagged a bit.
it smelled like shit in there,
old stale wafting shit
like the shit of the dead
if the dead could shit,
and we passed the joint and I gagged and
almost heaved, and I finally said,
“listen, are you boiling shit in the kitchen?”
and Tilly laughed and said,
“no, that’s Vegetables, our cat.”
and she no sooner had said that
when out walked this fourty pound feline,
Vegetables, and
then the cat crouched in the center of the rug
before us
and laid another pile.
then it lept 3 feet in the air,
landed, and
walked back into the

“I’m glad to know what it is now,”
I said passing the joint over to Tilly,
“you had me worried
for a while.”