Author Archives
Bill Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
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The god of only children
For some reason when I’m in Portland I feel like I can be more myself, maybe because no one knows me here. I wake and walk down César Chávez to the Starbucks in the cool, marine air. And remember the… Read More ›
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Tuesday, May 22 6:40 PM
I cleaned the drain traps, packed my lunch, said goodbye to the kids and left for work. When I got home I took my socks off and went outside barefoot, spilled my beer, had to go inside for another. The… Read More ›
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Gray of lake combined to sky, the same
Through the narrow path in the nearby park, a semi-circle that crowns my walk, the trees are leaning in and damp with dew. It’s late spring now, past peak, broken petals brought down by an overnight rain. I come to… Read More ›
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Video of last night’s dream sequence
The dream premise was that I could use my mind for special powers through my hands. It was a new power though, like learning to balance oneself on a bike. To practice, I concentrated hard, felt my jaw tighten, my… Read More ›
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One Saturday in May, with ’77 million paintings’ playing
The cottonwood started falling and now it feels like we’re in a snow globe that won’t stop. Charlotte and I went to the aquarium and looked at the octopus, its sheep eyes, the valves where the cheeks would be, opening… Read More ›
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Testing and failing, most every day
By the time we get to Friday we’re all so tired, we’ve just started going out for dinner. Last night I took the high road and just had a salad but when we got home, a couple slices of pizza… Read More ›
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Dr. Chan’s office
I went back to the dentist, the first time since that July we left for Europe in 2015. The space between then and now kept growing wider and made me feel unclean. When I sat in the chair the assistant… Read More ›
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Broken clouds
In the morning the tops of the trees were pale-pink from a sun I couldn’t see, and it was cool enough I needed a sweater for my walk. It was just me on the road until I got to the… Read More ›
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The number 4 airshaft seam to Primrose Mine
I woke at 4, fell back to sleep until 5, then dreamt again and got up. If dreams can be categorized the same as data (unstructured, structured, or semi-structured), then mine qualify as ‘semi-.’ I got to the trailhead early… Read More ›
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Cumulus in D-major
After work I went out back with a lawn chair to clear my head and watch the clouds. There was a flat spot to put my beer glass on a stump, from the plum tree we had taken out last… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 