House Arrest 7 (At Least)

Posted on March 24, 2020 by sputterpub

House Arrest

Each day it sinks in deeper what a mess
we’ve made, how serious pandemic is:
the overturning market, local biz
beset or forced to close. We cannot guess
a timeline – lacking data we confess
we’re almost clueless. Theories fade or fizz
in isolation toward a desperate quiz,
while losing ground to politics and stress.

At least I have a little house to shield
me now, improved so comfort is increased.
At least I like a solitary day.
At least we have the virtual to yield
me sights of those I want to meet. At least
my future’s not extensive, anyway.

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House Arrest 6 (Limerick)

Posted on March 23, 2020 by sputterpub

House Arrest

Some mammal released a flu storm
That forced human trade to reform,
Regardless of who
We know this is true:
Nobody escapes the new norm.

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Morning Therapy

Posted on March 23, 2020 by sputterpub

tunturi-e80-exercise-bike[1]

Resuming at-home exercise at last,
to end a long hiatus – two months off –
I knew I’d ache, but soreness has surpassed
my expectation. Added to the cough
that lingers, I am feeling tender, old,
and weaker than I seemed to be last year.
It’s doubtful I’ll delay or even hold
the line, but I’m not done. Not near.

I plucked a pain reliever off the shelf
and downed it while the pot of coffee dripped.
I stretched and paid attention to myself
before I made the bed, or read, or sipped.
This treatment spanned an hour plus today
and worked.
The pain is lessened.
I’m okay.

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House Arrest 5 (Tanka)

Posted on March 22, 2020 by sputterpub

House Arrest

Today is Day 5.
I can live locked down short-term,
but when will it end?
I’ll captive work my body,
work my mind, beyond release.

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House Arrest 4 (Villanelle)

Posted on March 21, 2020 by sputterpub

House Arrest

We look in vain to Washington for more.
We merit information without lies.
Just what do they think government is for?

It doesn’t matter if we’re rich or poor;
We question but receive no clear replies.
We look in vain to Washington for more.

We’re stuck at home and frightened to the core.
Disease is spread in droplets of demise.
Just what do they think government is for?

The worst of us will ransack every store;
The states are told to get their own supplies.
We look in vain to Washington for more.

By increments we slowly learn the score –
The exponential spread is no surprise.
Just what do they think government is for?

So now our heads are fraught and hearts are sore.
We see among the feds too few are wise.
We look in vain to Washington for more.
Just what do they think government is for?

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House Arrest 3 (Civilization)

Posted on March 20, 2020 by sputterpub

House Arrest

It really shouldn’t come as a surprise
that spreading illness is the biggest threat
to us. Creating cities any size
repressed the wise and let our breed forget
direction, stars, and close geography,
the good and bad of plants, the boon of air
refreshed by stream and purified by tree –
it’s probable we flourished then and there.

But we progressed from wilderness to town
to city life, as nature shrank to vague.
What we thought up may really have been down,
and though we know of smallpox and the plague,
we lost our sense of peril – sad but true –
and now we suffer consequential flu.

Posted in Coronaverse, Health, Philosophy, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Oh No No-No

Posted on March 20, 2020 by sputterpub

avo

We used to call them alligator pears
before we learned how much we like their taste.
Now breakfast lunch and dinner rarely dares
omitting avocado. Mashed to paste
it’s guacamole or a sandwich spread.
Cubed it’s to a salad like a gem.
We choose to eat its healthy fat instead
of oil pressed from soy, or margarine.

I’m into buying several every week,
but I just woke to facts that make me sore.
The avocados I and others seek
encourage theft of water from the poor.
Supply/demand I understand, but sense
abhors this unintended consequence…

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House Arrest 2 (TV)

Posted on March 19, 2020 by sputterpub

House Arrest

There’s welcome rain outside my window now,
as if the clouds were cleansing all of us
who hunker in our homes, obeying how
instructed to forestall the ominous.
A sunny day would be more difficult;
we’re overcast and want to stay inside.
If we’re to earn a popular result
we’ll keep apart, build hospitals, and bide
until by shot and time immunity
is gained, but never live the same again.
I’m healthy but I’m watching more TV
and Internet, athirst for news of when.
I’m surfing for some facts or common sense,
and getting ads with zero relevance.

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House Arrest One

Posted on March 18, 2020 by sputterpub

House Arrest

Day 1 of 21 is not so bad.
I’ve food enough for near 2 dozen meals,
and though the present’s feeling strange and sad
I like my house, and solitude appeals
to me, at least for goodly chunks of time.
I have my books and stationary bike.
I’ll dabble gardening, construct a rhyme
a day, and use what Internet I like.

Expecting we’ll adjust to this constraint,
I think before I’m out of food or weed
I’ll figure out some answers and begin
to dash outside to shop. Perhaps complaint
will occupy me, sudden worry, need,
and possibly I’ll start to order in.

Posted in Coronaverse, Health, Home, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Flustered at Russell

Posted on March 18, 2020 by sputterpub

Russell Fluster

Three blocks away three years ago she lost
direction. She was driving to my place,
and somehow her location wires crossed.
She called me, flustered. I began a race
to her on foot. I said, “Stay where you are,”
and quickly locked my door and moved my feet.
I hurried till I got to where her car
was idling, flashing lights and blocking street.

Together all too slowly then, we went
to lunch and talked about her failing heart.
And though her ills were not an accident
(bad habits gave pre-disposition start),
I murmured love and sympathy. We sighed.
Before another winter passed, she died.

Posted in Aging, Cognition, Health, Poetry | Tagged , , | Leave a comment