The Poet

I know, it makes no sense. Sorry. This one was Leaf's call and a compositional um, challenge. He wanted to do an airport and I wanted to do a poet. This doodle is dedicated to my friend Kelton and to Splendid Firecat, who seems happy in her new home, especially after Monet purchased her a ten-foot scratching post (Splendid appears in the doodle!). Here is Leaf's artist statement, A long time ago, when I was only one, I was writing a story, a story that required an airport and in that airport there was noisy jooms, and sometimes the planes took off twenty at a time, including three thousand. I need just one more word, even though I was writing this when I was one and I’m a hundred thousand years old now. It needs to be, a little stinky and maybe tasty too, with some farts. My name was pickly pockly wickly woo.