The Fuzzy Felt mind of an over-the-hill poet

I used Fuzzy Felts

when I was a lad,

they were my cousin’s

mine, I never had;

and I made dodgy pictures

of farmyards and the like,

or a picnic party

taking place by a lake;

and myriad others,

on subjects diverse,

they could have been better,

they couldn’t have been much worse;

and perhaps why I am to this day,

not much of an artist

in any artistic way.


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