﻿ON THECARPET 
By T-bone Slim 
 
Boss: 
Why hallo there, Joe! I spose you don’t know. 
Tomorrow you’re just a big bum; 
I’m weary, in short, to serve you support 
My arm is all done-up and numb.” 
 
Joe: 
“Why you, you fat slob, ‘twas I on the job 
That put all that flesh on your chin; 
So you support me? Just how can that be? 
I spose that’s the reason I’m thin?” 
 
Boss: 
I’ve worked hard for you, far into the night, 
At times even missing my lunch; 
That you and your wife might use fork and knife, 
And carefree your marshmallows munch. 
 
Joe: 
Oh well, even so, we’ll say that you toiled, 
To feed me and mine from the throne, 
Your efforts, in fine, even added to mine, 
Have left me a wreck — skin and bone. 
 
Boss: 
I’m sorry, dear Joe, that you are so low, 
While I am both hearty and plump; 
It does happen so, as worldly things go— 
I’m thinking, dear Joe, you’re a chump. 

P. S.— I see where the boss got the last word.