Significant otters

From Kim Darnell, this image (one of many you can find with this bit of wordplay in it):

Full of resonance for me, given a sexy poem I once wrote for my man Jacques.

Here’s the poem, written way back in 1990, just before Jacques’s decline began:

My significant otter

1. Summer Creatures

My significant otter
  Abandons me for
  Cold waters in
Maine each summer.  On

Land he beavers, nails
Shingles, does crosswords.  At
Night he sleeps solo and lives like a
  Monk; I am 

Wild with desire for the
Scent of his body; I am
Monkey-man, hot with the smell of
  My own.  I write

Letters of love that veer oddly in
Topic, intending to pierce him with
Darts of affection,
  Animal lust.  He is

Touched but not moved, he is
Playful but busy.  We
  Wait for the autumn to
  Make us a pair.

2. Glad to be Back

My significant otter returns to
Ohio, exhausted from travel and
Hungry for me.  I have
  Been with

Hundreds of lovers this summer.
  One is an
  Eagle who penetrates me; I
Call him at night and he flies
Right to my bedside.  Some of them

Come for brief couplings, give a kiss, and are
Gone.  All of them stay with me while I am
  Solo.  All of them
  Clamor to stay on for the year.

The real man beside me is newly a
Virgin - How does this happen?  More
  Magic, I guess.  After
  Months with his
Genitals off on vacation, he's needy and

Fragile, but no innocent.  (We are
Rather mismatched, and have high
Expectations.)  We tumble to bed and
Enjoy modest pleasures, though none would be

Fit for the general press.  Tomorrow we'll
  Work on more racy
  Conjunctions; tonight my
Sweet otter and I will just rest.

(This is always an emotionally difficult time of the year for me. Ann Daingerfield Zwicky’s death day comes in five days, and then Jacques’s birthday five days after that.)

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