Author Archives: sputterpub

Saw & Drill

Posted on December 6, 2016 by sputterpub

If I have nothing nice to say, it’s best to shut my mouth and keep my fingers still, to give the arrogance a little rest and bide with patient attitude, until a concept comes and wisdom feels no force. But … Continue reading →

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Elective Love

Posted on December 5, 2016 by sputterpub

Her lover has affectionate intent, or so his playful attitude implies. But he won’t freely pay a compliment, or give a little gift that gratifies, or open doors for her, or take her arm, for he neglects the nice necessities … Continue reading →

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Mythogenesis

Posted on December 2, 2016 by sputterpub

“No wife of mine will have to work” she said he said, near half a century ago. And though she held career ideas in head and heart, she liked to feel her belly grow, and after giving birth she fell … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | 2 Comments

Nerves

Posted on December 1, 2016 by sputterpub

As if there were a plot against my peace, there’s always something irritating me. My neck is stiff, my barnacles increase (for so I term arthritic bumps). The tree outside my door drops leaves, and tiny seeds as hard as … Continue reading →

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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 →

Posted in Language, Poetry | Leave a comment

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 →

Posted in Fiction, Uncle Upset | Leave a comment