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  | | Bobby Slais |  |  | Bobby Slais was born in 1961 and has been a resident of Michigan in the United States his whole life. A single father with two children in the house, raising them alone while working a high level engineering job in the Detroit metro area. One of his children is a special needs child, certainly providing many challenges in all their daily lives. Bobby’s passion and determination has shown through in all aspects of his life. He was a nationally ranked marathon runner in college but had to take time off school to help raise his siblings when his mother passed away.  An innovative engineer currently holding ten US patents for product lines his company manufactures. For fun and relaxation, he swings a metal detector, finding buried treasures when the Michigan weather allows it. Two gold coins and many gold and silver treasures adorn his treasure chest. He had the feature article and appeared the cover of a prominent treasure hunting magazine in early 2007. Poetry is a big part of Bobby’s life. His innovative and empathic nature spills out of the verse as he weaves emotion found in life’s journeys and surprises into his work for all to read and relate to. Several of his poems have been published in poetry magazines and he is currently refining his first manuscript. 
 
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 | featured poem 
 
 
 The Spin
 
 I head outside for a smoke, killing time
 trying to minute away seconds from work’s furious wind,
 the rush of emails, paper reports, faxes, and phone calls.
 
 In front of me, a commotion, broken leaves and debris,
 scraps of paper, twigs, and golden pine needles
 swirl around on the thin strip of concrete driveway
 
 leading into the loading dock. They tumble on in
 from around the building corner, an unseen twirling force
 pulls them into this vortex. It’s a bizarre confusion
 
 with an appealing, somewhat mesmerizing beauty
 as they topple and dance like puppets on strings,
 at times almost being set free, being sucked back in
 
 spinning into the mix again. They are being forced to work
 by something they cannot control. In the center of it all,
 a brownish clump of dampness, compressed by last night’s rain
 
 unmoving, not affected by the howling as if they just don’t care,
 like dead weight co-workers. The rest continue to move
 in their taunting and repeating pattern, around, in and out,
 
 and around again. I almost feel sorry for them. They are trapped.
 Content with the bit of fresh air I have taken in, I weave my way back
 toward my place, hitting the fax machine on my way by,
 
 picking up some printed copies, answering a coworkers question.
 Finally turning the corner into my cube, I notice it,
 one leaf clinging onto the cuff of my black dress pants.
 
 I pluck it off, setting it free and place it on my desk.
 We both sit still for a brief moment
 and let the world spin around us.
 
 by Bobby Slais
 
 
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