Author Archives: sputterpub

Apropos

Posted on September 11, 2017 by sputterpub

I’m never age appropriate. I’ve had a wayward brain, eccentric attitude, as long as I recall. I wasn’t bad in deed or thought, but teachers called me rude for asking natural questions, and my dad admonished me for lack of … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Poetry | Leave a comment

Cognitive Order

Posted on September 8, 2017 by sputterpub

If life is information and a game of zero sum, I think I’ve won enough. Amassing goods before they had a name, awash in blessings and with too much stuff, it’s time for me to lose. I’ll place myself in … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Poetry | Leave a comment

Camping Lecture

Posted on September 7, 2017 by sputterpub

“The bigger dipper indicates the small: its handle points straight to the brighter star, Arcturus, in galactic lactic sprawl.” He held me as he told me what stars are. “Now this is quartz that makes a vein for gold. Here’s … Continue reading →

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Pre-Verbals

Posted on September 6, 2017 by sputterpub

“Have you talked to your father lately?” “No,” Aggie sighed. “You know how he is – he’ll answer when I call, and he responds to texts or emails, but he never initiates.” “I’m sorry.” Aggie understood that Del’s phrase wasn’t … Continue reading →

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Weird Weather

Posted on September 5, 2017 by sputterpub

We suffered record heat for half a week: the wind reversed or absent, heavy air beset with smoke, as if a weather freak arose engendered by a low somewhere, attacked, and we without AC tried fans that proved their uselessness … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Weather | Leave a comment

Anaburbs

Posted on September 1, 2017 by sputterpub

We used to know extended families. When several generations shared a place, the seniors often bent, hands on their knees, to tend the babies. Every age of face was then familiar; cries were swiftly quelled – evolution’s strategy was met. … Continue reading →

Posted in Neighborhood, Poetry | Leave a comment

Worst Best Friend

Posted on August 31, 2017 by sputterpub

I push against the planet when I walk, caress my iron thighs when I’m in bed, but I don’t have a buddy I can talk about this with, for she’s involved instead with jagged cycles of pathology and seesaws in … Continue reading →

Posted in Health, Poetry | Leave a comment

Extension

Posted on August 30, 2017 by sputterpub

When I became a mom at 26, I quit my job and thought I’d write a book. I didn’t have a clue about the fix I entered then – I didn’t know it took so much to raise a human … Continue reading →

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HAY?

Posted on August 29, 2017 by sputterpub

I like to answer questions. I won’t duck a query, and I never “just because.” But yesterday I had a what-the-fuck occasion, when my daughter made me pause. “So how are you?” she asked. It’s been a while, and I … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Poetry | Leave a comment

Wag

Posted on August 28, 2017 by sputterpub

Her tail can be disruptive as the surf, inscribing in the air a hemi-dome, for when my dog is first released on turf, her nether end darts like a metronome. Her ecstasy’s reflected in the move, like counterpoint to action … Continue reading →

Posted in Critters, Poetry | Leave a comment