I went to an outdoors store where there's boots and snowshoes and flannel, which evidently are staples for life in Syracuse. I bought a 5 dollar flannel shirt and it is ridiculously warm! But I look like a prepubescent lumber jack.... So I decided to write a poem about it.
Some real fly flannel
I've found I'm fond of flannel
And I'm sure you'd never guess
That out of all the fabrics
I've tried on, it fits the best.
Like a limber lumber jack
It lets me move so free
In case I ever need to dodge
The falling of a tree.
The cotton cuts off cold
From reaching hairy skin
As I trek the frozen tundra
Above the arctic ring.
But I've never trekked the arctic
And I've never felled a tree
But in my flashy flannel
My imagination can run free.
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