he named me after him
he named me after him,
his best ditty ever,
my inheritance,
a laughing brook of
guppy royalties,
that keep our Labrador
reasonably well fed poetically

and of course his name

his name,
which was not so much inherited,
as deposited, X-mark-the-son

they ask,
no, they
declarative announce
as fact,
answered even as asking,
tho their voices rising
in a pretend-questioning format,

are you as good as he was?
Oh no, of course not.

I'm merely the son,
He was the father,
between us now
the celestial
Holy Ghost of Rhyming