Category Archives: Poetry

Wasted Worry

Posted on September 14, 2017 by sputterpub

I lived a half a year past 66 and called my age the number of the beast. The digits made 18 (mathematic tricks), and that’s the Chai denoting life, at least. Numerical coincidence aside, the fact is I’ve lived long … Continue reading →

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Deep Desert

Posted on September 12, 2017 by sputterpub

The morning air is tricky, with a haze that to my coastal eyes appears as mist, befogging distance for my sweeping gaze, but air this low cannot be moisture-kissed. It must be made from something I don’t know, some flotsam … Continue reading →

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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 →

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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 →

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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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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 →

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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 →

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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 →

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