Good Luck

Parakeet particulars populate
the restless morning.

My weight shifts foot to foot
until centrifugal forces topple me.

Does my fourth floor drain drop
straight down to the sewer?

Society’s tectonic shift occurs
when children keep their mother’s name.

Where do I draw the line of minding my own business
when trying to safeguard the neighborhood?

I feel vexed sharing my father’s genes
slightly more than my mother’s.

I lined my iron kettle with poetry magnets
and simmered many stews to serve to my writing group.

The parakeet has flight of the whole house
and is not paper trained.

copyright © 2023 Kenneth P. Gurney

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