adjusted assisted living

you get the call
that they want to move
your mother
from the main floor
where the opera singer
sings, the sleepers
shake and drool
on the long red
leather couch,
and where verne
wanders like a lost
veteran of the civil
war. she's a night
owl, they say.
she needs a tv
and a remote control.
she's up all
night wandering
the halls on her
bad feet, keeping
the others awake.
we are not going to
shackle her, it hasn't
come to that yet,
but we need to do
something to keep
her in one place.
so, she'll be in
the basement from
now on. it's the same
price, except for
cable.