Author Archives: sputterpub

Resealed

Posted on July 16, 2020 by sputterpub

Too humid to dry the redwood deck I resealed: our normal July.

Posted in Home, Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

To Sleep

Posted on July 15, 2020 by sputterpub

I think I like to sleep, but I’m not there to judge; it’s only as I start to fall to slumber, that I’m comfortably aware my latest thoughts are what I can’t recall. As I relax, I set my hands … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Cognition, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

War on Entropy

Posted on July 14, 2020 by sputterpub

When I say I love order, I don’t mean I value lines or uniforms or rules. (I’d be an anarchist, except that scene has been usurped by weapon-toting fools.) Obedience has never been my route – impatience my persistent quality; … Continue reading →

Posted in Personality, Philosophy, Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

It’s Not Too Late (Rondine)

Posted on July 13, 2020 by sputterpub

It’s not too late to tackle this disease, that triggers inflammation causing more compounding symptoms, circumventing sure analysis, prodigious in degrees of insult – manifest debilities – while experts scavenge blindly for a cure. It’s not too late. As soon … Continue reading →

Posted in Civics, Coronaverse, Health, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

To Mom, My Aunts, and My Girlfriends

Posted on July 12, 2020 by sputterpub

I loved heroic tales when I was small, relating some to princesses, but more to youngest sons and cabin boys and all the challenges encountered. That was pure enchantment for me, so I learned their ways: the kindness to each … Continue reading →

Posted in Legends, Lessons, Personality, Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Threatless

Posted on July 11, 2020 by sputterpub

(A Pre-Covid Piece) Commuting yesterday, at nearly noon, I noticed I felt free and oddly fine. I focused on surroundings then, and soon observed that every vista seemed benign. Though weather’s weird, the air was warm and clear. Though politics … Continue reading →

Posted in Neighborhood, Transit | Tagged | Leave a comment

Claustrophilia

Posted on July 10, 2020 by sputterpub

The deck deserves another waterproof. It should have happened several months ago, before we hunkered down and in, aloof from viral load, from people, shop and show. The bathroom has irregularities the builder meant to fix, or tweak and ease. … Continue reading →

Posted in Coronaverse, Home, Personality, Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

The Last Time I Die

Posted on July 9, 2020 by sputterpub

I doubt my death will be a pretty sight; I’ve lived too long to make a lovely corpse. Most likely I’ll be in a bed, and might be looking like the sort of beast that warps a grandson’s dream to … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Family, Love, Poetry | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Fortune’s Child (HA 113 Almost-Pushkin Sonnet)

Posted on July 8, 2020 by sputterpub

What were the odds? My parents had to meet and marry, and have intercourse one night, enjoy a healthy pregnancy, and greet me bearing borne and brimming with delight. Although they erred, they let no one kid-glove me. Abrupt and … Continue reading →

Posted in Coronaverse, Personality, Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Inventory (HA 112 Magic 9)

Posted on July 7, 2020 by sputterpub

Supposed to be a simple exercise, composing every day a formal poem in house arrest, I guess it’s no surprise the longer quarantined the more I make. So far one hundred and eleven tries – the quantity outgrows a catalogue. … Continue reading →

Posted in Coronaverse, Poetry, Writing | Tagged , | Leave a comment