Monthly Archives: November 2016

What Goes Around

Posted on November 30, 2016 by sputterpub

Mom is 90 and she hasn’t a tremor in her limbs. Her mind is still sharp and her memory is as good as ever. She complains about all the meds, but there are only nine (and as far as I … Continue reading →

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Vocab

Posted on November 29, 2016 by sputterpub

“I’m aggravated,” Mama said so much, a pet might have assumed it as a name. The woman was impatient, filled with such an antsy energy, there never came a respite when we knew she was content. It seemed she never … Continue reading →

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The Old Refrain

Posted on November 28, 2016 by sputterpub

“Just wait until you’re grown – you’ll change your mind. You’ll value driving and you’ll like to shop.” My mother didn’t get me, and resigned herself to waiting for my weird to stop. But I was self-aware when I was … Continue reading →

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Die Dice

Posted on November 25, 2016 by sputterpub

Do people still tell bawdy jokes in bars? It’s far too long since I have been or heard. The months elapse like days – momentum jars me like some glimpses through my eyes: absurd how lined my face is now, … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Poetry | Leave a comment

Abundance

Posted on November 24, 2016 by sputterpub

When I was 8 years old, I had too much. I owned so many dolls I couldn’t pick a favorite. Most the books I loved had such poor heroines, their toys were either stick- and-yarn creations or composed of rags … Continue reading →

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Rambunctious

Posted on November 23, 2016 by sputterpub

Americans are childish. Vigorous, energetic, imaginative. And impulsive, petulant, whiny. We invented standup comedy and most of the entertainment business. We created superheroes and archvillains and comic books. We spread the Internet. We changed audience brains, but not for the … Continue reading →

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New Law (a Forepoem)

Posted on November 22, 2016 by sputterpub

I’m glad this shit is legalized, because I’m old and it’s too pungent now to hide. I formed a habit of not flaunting laws I break, when I was young and terrified. I outgrew paranoia with bad dreams and though … Continue reading →

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Sunday

Posted on November 21, 2016 by sputterpub

I know I’m not a workaholic, now I’ve stopped the daily office job. I see instead the lists and multi-tasks were how I managed the responsibility my choosing work and husbands, children too, imposed upon the time I thought I’d … Continue reading →

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November Trees

Posted on November 18, 2016 by sputterpub

A glancing westward in the morning light of crispy mid-November finds a tree: a loose-leafed skeleton of branch, a sight of hibernating winter fantasy. Its bony limbs are lace against the white horizon built of fog upon the sea, and … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Weather | Leave a comment

Saws

Posted on November 17, 2016 by sputterpub

If something’s said enough, there’s got to be at least a grain of truth in it. And when you’re doing time with kids, it’s quality that counts more than the hours you expend. Now that’s a pair of lies our … Continue reading →

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