Monday, December 10, 2012

Papoose 1978

The baby wails and wails.
He is big and I am tired of carrying him around.
When I put him down
He wails and wails.

If I lived in a tribe he could have six brothers and sisters
And twenty four cousins
To take care of him
And if he cried after six brothers and sisters
And twenty four cousins
Tried to please him,
He could go to bed.

Now he is quiet, and I can hear him breathing....
If I show my face, he will start to cry.
In the day time he starts talking to himself, and then I talk back.
Ba!  Ba!  Faf....brah.....

But it is night time, now, and he is not talking.
Perhaps he is asleep.
I shall go see, and cover him.

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