Author Archives: sputterpub

Cronies

Lately Jill hates her bff. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t love her, and it isn’t the first time, and maybe hate is too strong a word, but Jill is a writer, usually restrained, who occasionally indulges in gotcha words to … Continue reading →

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Base 12 (So Many Factors!)

I heard you almost voice the phrase a lover likes to hear when gazing in the darkness at my face, you said you start to love me, and my ardor upped a gear and held you close and heated my … Continue reading →

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Semantics

“How close,” I queried “do you want to be?” Then “Close,” he whispered. “Close is very nice.” He gave his answer bland, emphatically, and I asked, “What means close and at what price?” He countered, “Do you want to talk … Continue reading →

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Safety

So what if she was unimpressed at first: his clothes ill-fitting and his manners rude. So what if he was boorish, and accursed with awkward talk and cocky attitude? She must have been more lonely than she knew for her … Continue reading →

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Strategy

Intentions of the morning bright with goal, which evening burnished dreaming through the night, are paled by noon and later less than whole, diminished as the west retires light. So this determination too will fold, and unremembered will be this … Continue reading →

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Gambling

“So do you gamble?” she asked, contemplating their pass through the casino to the buffet dinner that awaited them when they left their room. “Not really. You?” “I guess I don’t gamble for money. Never have.” He proceeded to hold … Continue reading →

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Ladies’ Room

The slob who takes the toilet paper stinks, for inconsideration is her name. No one can tell what spell the woman thinks she weaves, with wasted paper for her game. Does she object to hygiene on a roll? Or does … Continue reading →

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Slow

Too slowly I accept the rate of change that slowly shows its trail across the sand a habit made. Too slowly moves the strange symbolic vector I can understand, that no one else regards or even sees. A snake, a … Continue reading →

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Stuff

I used to hold a backpack fantasy: a dream that I could carry as I go the several things that mean the most to me for, needing little, what I need I know. I had to put that fantasy on … Continue reading →

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Self Love

(I stand behind my openness and give it form enough to make a silhouette. Direct is the address at which I live: unliking lies, unlikely to forget. My negative emotions surface float like skin on scalded milk, like water down … Continue reading →

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