The Feeding (2004) Poem by David Joel Rodriguez

This has nothing to do with teasing:
as he lies on his back playing with a toy,
suddenly rolls over with a face of joy.

The bib around his neck for his teething,
on his stomach he is with cheeks and a smile,
hoping that some time now he'll get his eight ounce vile.

The hour will come when he will be eating,
though his focus is on one and one item only,
he does have a schedule; to him not accordingly,

Uh oh, what's this? it's time for your feeding,
now that his attention is faced another way,
he knows what it is so we pull away.

As he's getting prepared he starts with his crying.
now, now, here's the bottle for which you demand,
with your round little eyes telling us over that bottle hand.