Author Archives: sputterpub

Skunks

Posted on July 7, 2014 by sputterpub

I share the yard with 7 skunks, I think. I know they’re polecats but they’re hard to count. I see them out at 4 a.m. – they slink and romp and by their tails the kits amount to 5 or … Continue reading →

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Reaction

Posted on July 3, 2014 by sputterpub

Bizarre and perilous seems my routine today, and I don’t understand the cause of this foreboding mood. It cannot mean catastrophe my dog has tender paws, abraded brow and irritated skin. My dreams are derelict as my garage, I nothing … Continue reading →

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The Rise and Fall of Political Awareness (II of II)

Posted on July 2, 2014 by sputterpub

In April of 1967 she was a senior in high school. What would turn out to be the last gas chamber execution at San Quentin was scheduled. Melanie was against capital punishment. So were most of the students she knew. … Continue reading →

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The Rise and Fall of Political Awareness (I of II)

Posted on July 1, 2014 by sputterpub

Looking back, it’s now apparent that Melanie awoke to political awareness when she was almost seven, and went back to sleep about it when she was seventeen. And it’s not like she was noticeably political during that decade: just more … Continue reading →

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Penetration

Posted on June 30, 2014 by sputterpub

The fog against my face is fleet and chill, inspiring me to processing inside my panoramic plans; my acts of will and attitude; a deviance; a tide as tubular and strong as lunacy creates. Now morning blares the fog to … Continue reading →

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Lines

Posted on June 27, 2014 by sputterpub

The view down Sacramento Street aligns today. The garbage cans like fences edge the boundary of yard and street. Designs of linearity are drawn with hedge and pepper tree, while arrowing ahead of me recede the blocks of old concrete: … Continue reading →

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Extremities (Part 3 of 3)

Posted on June 26, 2014 by sputterpub

Jane complained to her mother about her marriage. Martha counseled her to try to work it out with Alan. Jane began wearing better clothes and tried to be gracious. Alan didn’t notice but other men did. By the time Jane … Continue reading →

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Extremities (Part 2 of 3)

Posted on June 25, 2014 by sputterpub

There’s a picture of Jane and Charlie at ages eighteen and fifteen. It was taken on a family vacation and they are in swimsuits on a dock by a lake. Their father is a blurred shadow in the background, which … Continue reading →

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Extremities (Part 1 of 3)

Posted on June 24, 2014 by sputterpub

“Stinky feet! Stinky feet! Get your stinky feet away from me!” Martha heard it all the time. On the floor of her living room, from the back seat of the car, wherever her barefoot son and daughter were, so was … Continue reading →

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Sensing

Posted on June 23, 2014 by sputterpub

I closed my eyes this morning as I strolled, and sought to sense surroundings without sight. The air upon my chin was clean and cold. The chirps of birds were speckles on the white of 8 a.m., and humming undertones … Continue reading →

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