Category Archives: Poetry

Not Yet

Posted on December 5, 2017 by sputterpub

I used to qualify my history by stating, with a grin, the numbered years I’d earned of marital recovery, enjoying comprehension from my peers. But now I know how much I thought was jest was actually a clue to plumb … Continue reading →

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Raincoats

Posted on December 4, 2017 by sputterpub

My raincoat’s adequate. There’s nothing wrong with it, except I never want to wear the piece. I’ve had it several years too long, my mother’s is identical (the pair of us don’t like alike), and I’m too bored to use … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry, Weather | Leave a comment

Bad Advice

Posted on November 30, 2017 by sputterpub

I married, bore two children, and divorced, and then I tried again to be a wife, but had to end that too – my talent coursed another way, and I determined life for me was happier, at least for then, … Continue reading →

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Reflexology

Posted on November 28, 2017 by sputterpub

A summer evening, doors ajar, I hear some pops I barely register: the sound of breeze in garden trees (I have four near), but then I notice and I look around – there’s flame that rears beyond the neighbor’s fence! … Continue reading →

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Rainy Day Errand

Posted on November 27, 2017 by sputterpub

I see a red regatta in the rain – five-pointed leaves deposited in clots on white concrete, that leave a crimson stain: so liquidambar drops a flock of yachts. I see a sea of gulls stake claims to ground that … Continue reading →

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Unintended Consequences

Posted on November 24, 2017 by sputterpub

An unintended consequence produced, collateral to innovation’s wit, is often the resulting wave that’s loosed upon our culture. Inappropriate as rent increases born of residents’ attempts to beautify their neighborhood, the damage no one meant can be immense, irradiating us … Continue reading →

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Body Mod

Posted on November 21, 2017 by sputterpub

My body mod’s invisible, advised and done by docs. Four teeth are rooted in titanium. My lenses are comprised of goods with laboratory origin – I focus at all distances, and see specifics unidentified before. I own a hidden disability … Continue reading →

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No Worries

Posted on November 20, 2017 by sputterpub

I worried so when I was young, I built my frets to threats against all inner peace. While other Jews were specialists at guilt, I nurtured my anxiety’s increase. Now doubtless I’ve surpassed my mother’s skill, envisioning the ways things … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Poetry | Leave a comment

National Anthem

Posted on October 27, 2017 by sputterpub

When I was young, my father musicked me (by vinyl records and his reel-to-reel) with opera, Broadway tunes and symphony, in folksongs and their singalong appeal, and Souza marches played by Army bands, with jazz and ragtime, blues and their … Continue reading →

Posted in Legends, Poetry | Leave a comment

Reunion

Posted on October 26, 2017 by sputterpub

Matriculating 50 years ago, the season of reunion has arrived. I went to two high schools, and so I know too many overall, too few archived to render tender time together now, so I declined attending either drill. But I … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, Poetry, School | Leave a comment