Seven Degrees of Otis

Been a while, friends~ It's swim team season again. . .

And also, I spent a week working with writer & teacher, Pat Schneider; a wonderful teacher of creative writing. Terrific!

Two days ago, my Dad & Otis were on a play-date - fishing. No kidding ~ Dad texts me & says, "Can Otis go out to play?" This is not unusual. See, my Dad is a dog magnet, & Otis has this steel plate. . .

Here's a poem I wrote while working with Pat Schneider. It says it all:

Seven Degrees of Otis
after Wallace Stevens (& Kevin Bacon)

I
He is the small, bobbling tail,
short-legged-Russell-doggie
love of my life.

II
Most pointedly, the only one: bobbling tail,
that has ever really connected with the true me.

III
Sounds ridiculous, and makes me feel a bit neurotic,
but I truly, surely
love his little spirit.

IV

And he understands me.
I can see it in his
supple brown eyes, fringed with furnishings and knowing.

V
And then there’s Daddy!
Ah! They are just best friends, fishing buddies, snack hounds,
those two.

VI
What does it say about a man,
whose best friend, almost literally,
is his daughter’s dog? Ha!

VII
Funny! So joyful and happy and sweet a soul is my Otis!
God knows what He’s doing, indeed, (and Cesar Millan is right)
matching him with me.

~~
Seven degrees of Otis,

indeed.

~~~