Arthor Ray Bag

     My name is yrdog4now. Admittedly it is not what my father calls. Nor for that matter what my sons call me. Not only that, but what my sons call me is not what my father calls me. This may explain why I do not have a statue of dad on my lawn.
     I attended Bard college where upon entry I submitted my poems to an incredibly huge poet who the school was bust out proud to have on the faculty. He was a big poet and he was a huge person. The chair he sat on could not be seen when he sat on it. It struck me as a compelling form of tenure. In any case, he handed me back my poems and said "you can't be serious". I was crushed by that 450 lb opinion and didn't write a poem for quite some time.

     I've recovered of course. I now have children, a mandolin, and a few friends. Oh, and a lawn of all things. It is, of course, anyone's guess if what I now scribble ought be considered poetry. To quote Sam, "I can't go on, I'll go on."

     So I do. And you can call me Otis if that helps.