Category Archives: Aging

The Fifth Wheel

Posted on July 5, 2018 by sputterpub

The oldest kid, the only girl, the black sheep in her family of origin, she early learned to be alone. In fact she liked her solitude – she could begin a poem, reread a book, design some clothes for paper … Continue reading →

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The Cold

Posted on June 26, 2018 by sputterpub

Two weeks ago I caught a simple cold and carried it to Portland in my chest. I didn’t think it much, but now I’m old enough to feel a wreck and need more rest than I arranged. Compounding as a … Continue reading →

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Epi (A Preposition)

Posted on May 24, 2018 by sputterpub

When I was young, I always looked ahead. Anticipating power when I grew, as soon as I knew one day I’d be dead I started listing things I had to do before my end: have sex with more than one; … Continue reading →

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Tired Day

Posted on May 21, 2018 by sputterpub

Today’s a tired day. I must admit I’m feeling every decade of my age. And that’s okay – in fact, appropriate, for I have overdone by any gauge: at first in travel far beyond my nest, and then in catching … Continue reading →

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The Interrupters

Posted on May 1, 2018 by sputterpub

My fingertips feel odd sometimes. They’re cold I note they weren’t so before, or numb when I sleep cheek-compressed – the way I hold them tightly there – or weakened in the thumb. My hands have lost all fat, and … Continue reading →

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Notions

Posted on March 12, 2018 by sputterpub

I know I was a handful: scared my mom and stunned my dad with willfulness and heat. Wicked-bright and booming like a bomb, I overfilled our den. I wasn’t sweet and patient. I defied the girl-police. I had too many … Continue reading →

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Meant Empty Words

Posted on March 5, 2018 by sputterpub

It does no good to say I told you so. That irritates the hearer to a snit. The speaker was correct, and needn’t throw a boast about. It’s inappropriate and doesn’t work. Like when you’re judging me, you say you’re … Continue reading →

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Justification

Posted on February 26, 2018 by sputterpub

I feel a little altered, and it’s good. I’m safe at home without a task that calls. There’s gentle rain outside to darken wood and speckle glass, and as the moisture falls the tense contractions in my limbs unfold. I … Continue reading →

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Stun

Posted on February 22, 2018 by sputterpub

I’m stunned by the mortality of men I used to love. They ought to stay alive, although I never thought I’d see again the three no longer breathing of the five significant to me as partners: first and last and … Continue reading →

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The Old Crowd

Posted on February 5, 2018 by sputterpub

When we were young we smoked a ton of weed. We bought it by the kilo around here. It didn’t lead to heroin or speed addiction. Alcoholics don’t use beer as gateway drinks, and while we smoked a lot, and … Continue reading →

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