I have a friend who has a daughter

she’s a poet, who one day will be ushered

to her place in the canon, although for now

she’s far too young for such a thing.–– besides,

“a place in the canon” sounds like an institution

where grandma's sent packing while the kids

rationalize what's best for grandma.

oh, my goodness! how do I justify such madness?

says here the poet has her man and kids alongside to live the life.

that's a good thing.–– but no mention of cats or parakeets?

I take umbrage.

ya gots to have a parakeet in the house

with a flask of sippin’ whiskey at the edge of the table

and doves on the wing in the room like Matisse or a cat.