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Baby Ben

You konw,
In many ways
you are the boss of this room
moreso than any dresser, desk,
bed or lamp.
You dominate my schedule
more than my datebook's or
calender's mournful efforts.
You sit across the room
staring green-eyed at me.
I, hands behind my head, stare back.
A minute later, like each day
you begin your aful racket.
I crawl across the room, and
(like each day)
greet you with a slap across your
I'm sorry, you're only doing your job
so I can keep mine.

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Rudyard Kipling


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