A Poem for the Ages

My slumber of late is crowned the crescent moon of my magnificent one.  He stays with me and slays me infinitely.  He is in the form of a cat, and I love that.  For now, he is my significant other when asked on the street.  I like to walk and feel the beat.  It is strange in a land like this.  It is the cement sunshine space of many a mixed race.  I may be a bit of an oddity in this place.  Even police see me as a possible malady in this awkward reality.  I pose no threat or harm, but my suburban gear looks rather queer.  Maybe places like Schuler's and Talbots can stand up for me and say that I seek comfort and fit to a t.  I appreciate the stores that serve me with value and thrift, but through gift channels I have obtained quality products that I value for my safety and security as I live on a shoestring budget and seek fitness and warmth in this ever-changing zone.  I do it alone, but I did the best training one could.  I began with 1.5 years with peers at Chung Moo Quan black belt training dojo of deceit for Minneapolis Police and Vikings and NHL players not around me.  I then hit the big bag a bit and mostly kickboxing pads that gave the active experience I needed to feel confidence in any electron field by doing kick boxing beginning at Los Campions on Franklin for 1.5 years with Keith and then a space he designed off Hiawatha.  I made the rounds to make these rounds around the block intelligent and free.  Today, I busted a move and even the HCMC ambulance did step into the groove.  Let's just rock it Mr. Roboto, and look inside your really weird GROTTO.  JUST ME