Little boy blue, with paper and glue,
Built a Möbius horn, though derided.
  Then under the moon
  He tried to play tunes,
But his notes were all flat and one-sided.  

by Wesley Rodgers

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Wesley Rodgers is on the wrong side of fifty. Been writing most of his life. Born and bred in Darwen, England (where he still lives). He's single (no offers of marriage please). He's been a retail manager. Banker. Postman.