Sputterpub's Blog

I have to test the dishwasher – so much
has been delivered damaged or installed
with leak, without a level, or with such
a gap I can’t ignore. I’m not appalled,
upset; it’s not a shock or a surprise
that builders are too busy or unsure.
But noticing what bothers ears and eyes,
and making fine adjustments, is a pure
objective satisfaction, like a tune
composed of perfect pitch and melody.

I’m sorry you’re distracted. I assume
you’re just too occupied with stress to be
appreciating fit with sense and brain.
I’ll heed machine routine and check the drain.

My vanity is asymmetrical.
No matter where I look there’s something wrong:
geometry, the knobs I have to pull,
the faucet taps, and how it takes too long
to feel its water warm into my palm.
Its crooked bottom edge disturbs my view.
One door is out of plumb. I’m staying calm,
but I may trade it in for something new.

Or maybe I’ll keep eccentricity.
This much irregularity can please.
It’s so unvain and yet called vanity!
The flaws at first disliked begin to ease
the months of chronic twinges in my neck.
I may decide I want to keep this wreck.

I visited my cottage yesterday.
I saw the shape of bathroom, kitchen, shed,
selected tones of grout, forgot to stay
to dump the mail, and caught a lift instead
to this my temporary lodging place,
supplied without a deadline by a friend
I’m getting used to living with. Home base
is shifted south for now, and I contend
with ventilation sounds instead of rain,
with window glass that only faces west,
a year-old cat we cannot seem to train,
a fold-out bed that serves as sofa best.
But honestly, the change that strikes me most
is how I treasure hours with my host.