we heard the lonesome monk parakeet singing a plaintive song at the top of a tree looking over the dog yard. we saw that kid who called me grandpa and never recognized me again. we went into the dog yard and looked at each other. we played whistle ball but the ball whistles no more. we heard faraway music drawing us near. charlie took me to the festival of jazz, selflessly. we met jack on the way back and charlie got a sidewalk snack and jack got a sniff. nobody for president.