The Song of the Fan

In each cranny and nook lies a paperback book
And the desk is heaped high, overflowing;
All the handwritten notes which I furtively wrote,
O, their number surpasses all knowing.

I've boxes of fanzines, and curious things;
Thirty shelves in their centers are sagging,
And the letters I send to both critic and friend,
In their writing I have not been lagging.

I'm a Fan and a brother, and many another
Fan has heard tell of my name.
To the Cons I must go, and hear as the Pros
Embellish the breadth of their fame.

And the day that I die, the great Fan in the Sky
Will roll out the carpet to greet me,
And if Ike A. is there on a golden chair,
Close by's where I want Him to seat me.

	                         --Fred Phillips
	                            12. 21. 67
	
[pg. 20, NO-EYED MONSTER #14, Summer 1968]


Updated April 12, 2001.  If you have a comment about these web pages please send a note to the Fanac Webmaster. Thank you.