Mar. 27th, 2005

This is what happens, my baby, my love;
This is what happens, you see,
When you refuse your potatoes and meat
And subsist on . . . broccoli.

A moment's delight, a mealtime of pleasure,
Of face-stuffing, tooth-gnashing joys -
And then round about midnight, the baby wakes crying,
And making a deflating noise.

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pomes

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