Einstein Was Right, or OTTO

I can’t imagine
actually writing a poem about
how Einstein was right
(although I sort of am).

More Up My Alley is this.

Einstein had a
named OTTO. Appealing
scientist tiny
political man.
We had dinner with him
a few times because Bess
kind of relative
though not entirely,
large large woman
she owned one style
of dress navy and black
two each she was
married to Harry
crazy about Otto
and he her.
So we were their excuse.
If they were with us
All Was Well
and Otto told some
Einstein stories
that I thought I’d
remember forever. Now
all I remember is
Otto, and Bess.

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