Author Archives
Bill Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
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Song for Billy Collins
All night while we sleep in the dark of the kitchen by the sink the coffee tumbler stands on its head upside down like a yoga pose in the drying rack beside the Belgian beer glass, the salad spinner, the… Read More ›
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Cloud Atlas for Dummies
A dramatic spring sky where the clouds take on exotic shapes, this one taking me back to grade school when I first learned about plate tectonics, the idea our earth was once supercontinents that broke apart, that you could fit… Read More ›
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Off the coast of Connemara
We did not know it then, we drove to the end of the world on a nameless peninsula, a spit off the edge of Ireland, some cheap car we rented in Dublin, a stick, we drove all day across that… Read More ›
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Song for reopening
And after so long, a whole season of seasons spent indoors, it sounds like the whole world is reawakening.
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The new Walt Whitman smartphone
It fits in your palm like a lotus blossom, like a butterfly.
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Not yet remembered
Then let it be like that, reduced to this: in the dark corner of some forgotten jacket, crumpled like a dead spider with its legs willy-nilly I will pull it out and hardly recognize it for what it was or… Read More ›
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Testosterone in pink
This shirt is salmon pink, a new, tight-fitting shirt for a man. A man bold enough for pink, for a stiff collar and a tight weave. Who conceals the limp from his plantar fasciitis on his way across the grocery… Read More ›
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When someone great is gone
There is a dip in the yard where a large root sack rotted out a long time ago. It sunk more and more until we got nervous and had to call someone out to look at it. But it was… Read More ›
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Remembering why
Why all the ice cream truck drivers in Philadelphia deal drugs. Why the dog looks like a coke addict with cat litter on her snout. Why the cottonwood blooms gather in clumps by the curbsides like snow. Why our kids… Read More ›
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Memento
We are trying hard to belong here by collecting what we can, to remember where we’ve been.
Bill Pearse 