Tag Archives: Love

The Last Time I Die

Posted on July 9, 2020 by sputterpub

I doubt my death will be a pretty sight; I’ve lived too long to make a lovely corpse. Most likely I’ll be in a bed, and might be looking like the sort of beast that warps a grandson’s dream to … Continue reading →

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Outing (HA 102 Tanka)

Posted on June 27, 2020 by sputterpub

We both feel anxious about being together after months at home but as we start to amble we recollect our humor

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Missing You (HA 52 Ovillejo)

Posted on May 8, 2020 by sputterpub

I’m sick of this – to leave my place I mask my face. The social berth is six feet wide, or stay inside. It’s harder than mere loneliness without your kiss. I’m tough but what I really miss are days … Continue reading →

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Granding

Posted on January 20, 2020 by sputterpub

I loved a rubber doll when I was five so fervently that I would bite her head. I always knew the toy was not alive – my passion didn’t harm her, but it bred in me awareness that emotions could … Continue reading →

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Revisits

Posted on January 3, 2020 by sputterpub

As I review assorted escapades of youth, of 12, 16, and 21, I clearly see they feature tones and shades of sexual predation. What was done was never charged: too mild then and, too, I thought myself mature and strong … Continue reading →

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Love is a Symptom

Posted on August 15, 2019 by sputterpub

With love the subject of the poems and songs, and love the object people crave the most, philosophers assume that love belongs atop the list of human wants. A host of minds agree on that, excluding mine. We know our … Continue reading →

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Asphalt Too

Posted on April 29, 2019 by sputterpub

I wanna meet a millionaire on BART (for certain that’s a prize I won’t obtain). Attractive, tall and well beyond the start of Medicare, he’ll choose to ride the train because he hates to drive on crazy roads, who walks … Continue reading →

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Jacaranda (An Etude)

Posted on July 2, 2018 by sputterpub

The legend of the Jacaranda tree was told to me one Saturday in June. I loved committing it to memory; by 2 p.m. on Sunday afternoon, I knew the tale as if it were my own. I swallowed Amazon mythology, … Continue reading →

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Hard of Hearing

Posted on May 7, 2018 by sputterpub

“What do you want from life?” she asked. He said “To live with you, smoke ganja every day, and dance in sunlight naked.” But instead of simple listening, she found a way to make his words motif and metaphor that … Continue reading →

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Presence

Posted on May 3, 2018 by sputterpub

I held my sense in fairly high esteem when I was 21. I thought I knew myself and him, for I distinguished seem from is and ought. If anything, I grew indignant when I felt I wasn’t heard. I needed … Continue reading →

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