Author Archives
Bill Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
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Cheese post
Cheese when it’s starting to go off smells the way I remember the boys locker room smelled. Like feet and bodily gases, something chemical-like or blooming, something alive that shouldn’t be. I consumed things well past their shelf life as… Read More ›
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Placement services
As a reward for getting overtime work I ordered seven yards of landscaping bark since now we can justify a cosmetic expense. And the bark smells good, makes all the beds look clean, keeps the weeds down, feels like summer…. Read More ›
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Deep Charon blues
No one else would eat my cheesecake so I ate it every day, all week. I loved that it was just cream cheese, sugar, flour, eggs and cream. And that it bloated in the oven and turned a deep brown…. Read More ›
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Memorial
I wrote to an old blogger friend, commented on his last post from five years ago. He replied, Whatever was inside of me that compelled me to write died. It started to feel like a job. I’ve already got a… Read More ›
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Sound check
Charlotte and me sitting in the Elks Lodge in Tacoma enjoying our drinks and the atmosphere when the heavy metal band starts up next door, their sound check. First the drummer, then the guitarist, and last the vocalist whose voice… Read More ›
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The Breakfast Club
If you get to the park early enough there’s still an edge to the air and you can imagine some nocturnal creatures stirring in the dark. By late spring when the brush leafs out it starts to fill in the… Read More ›
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In bloom
My energy levels seemed a bit manic so rather than reach for my phone first thing in the morning I tried sitting in the dark with no music, just the clocks, and Timmy. Timmy still tries to suckle in moments… Read More ›
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Rainbows
As a treat to myself for finishing David Wallace’s difficult book I bought another difficult book, JR by William Gaddis, 760 pages of pure dialogue, a book that influenced Wallace. I’d tried reading Gaddis’s first book but gave up and… Read More ›
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Sun spots
I don’t think our shrubs like being pruned with a chainsaw. Some look traumatized. Years ago when our landscaping crew pruned they made everything look like lollipops. We’ve now grown out of that and I do it myself. After being… Read More ›
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Unfinished
Dawn and I sat in the car in the Dairy Queen parking lot eating our sundaes with the windows down watching the other cars come and go through the drive thru, all the people in the suburbs walking their dogs…. Read More ›
Bill Pearse 