Author Archives

Bill Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.

• The logic of the bells

  By Bill Pearse on August 25, 2015 • ( 24 )

  

  I turn like a rotisserie chicken every quarter hour in bed, with a window angled open toward the church up the street and the bells tolling every 15 minutes, and I wonder if they’re live bells or triggered by some… Read More ›

• The churchbells on Sunday

  By Bill Pearse on August 23, 2015 • ( 9 )

  I get behind two lesbians in the Italian market, this medieval town in Germany — the market, no bigger than an elevator car, a telephone booth, and I say to the guy behind the counter you can leave the cheese… Read More ›

• The skin beneath my chin has the feel of waterfowl

  By Bill Pearse on August 21, 2015 • ( 15 )

  Mom woke to hardened blood in her bedding about the size of a tea cup saucer and couldn’t find the source, asked if the cat menstruates but she can’t, we had those organs taken out, and it wasn’t the dog… Read More ›

• The someday, faraway passages

  By Bill Pearse on August 20, 2015 • ( 4 )

  

  The want to be, could be, should be is too hard to be and easier left for another day that’s faraway, unsaid. There is no day now, no deadlines or rules, no place to be but the blind insides of space, where… Read More ›

• Licking my lips, the end of summer

  By Bill Pearse on August 19, 2015 • ( 6 )

  The cat’s come back to my lap to harvest what she can, and in the town they’re hanging leaves and lights, grape clusters in different colors for the wine fest, next month. The fruit flies are slowing down in the… Read More ›

• Peeing on Switzerland

  By Bill Pearse on August 18, 2015 • ( 26 )

  

  Ralf pokes the scat with the tip of his trekking pole and says in English it’s fresh, from earlier today. And the wind changes direction, it’s coming from Switzerland now, and I don’t know if that’s good or bad but… Read More ›

• How the rock bands formed the Alps

  By Bill Pearse on August 17, 2015 • ( 16 )

  

  If there’s such a thing as a German version of Robert De Niro it’s Eberhard with his constant wince, his diamond studded earring and pony tail coming undone, the wraparound sunglasses, the AC/DC ringtone. The wince could be from too… Read More ›

• No Wi-Fi in the Alps

  By Bill Pearse on August 12, 2015 • ( 14 )

  Ventured out for our first family getaway to Rothenburg ob der Tober. Took the 81 toward Untergruppenbach, then the 6 toward München, the 7 to Ülm. Espoused our strategy for spending money in the middle of a cobblestone street when… Read More ›

• They scratched their names on the stones, in the trees

  By Bill Pearse on August 11, 2015 • ( 20 )

  Dawn took the side of the bed my mom once slept in and that left me the side that was John’s. I’d sometimes look in on him sleeping before we flew back home, but wouldn’t wake him, it was easier… Read More ›

• First day of school in Germany

  By Bill Pearse on August 10, 2015 • ( 13 )

  Homeschooling started on a Sunday in early August, definitely not in the States anymore. We weren’t ready but the kids were, so we started with a discussion about date and time formats, how they’re different here, and why. But I… Read More ›