A woodsy scent of burning cedar and spice. The languid winter hours spent by the window with the lull of rain thumbing the gutters and panes. “Through the gap in Shakespeare’s garden,” that’s the phrase I borrowed from the guy… Read More ›
death
Downgraded to a tropical depression
The drive to the coast takes five hours from Seattle with three cities in between: Tacoma, Olympia, and Aberdeen. From Aberdeen it’s another two hours to the ocean, featureless and hard to keep awake. I’ve gotten better about what music… Read More ›
Tow-away zone
A mess on the ground that looks like a witch’s wig, but it’s a crow. A dead crow. I’m superstitious enough it’s a sign, and sure enough…cops around the corner with a tow truck about to mount a Range Rover…. Read More ›
Blacking out the friction
Of course I remembered the name Dick Boac, he worked at Martin Guitars as an “archivist,” a Falstaff type. But I couldn’t remember anything more about him because he was John’s friend, and John died more than 10 years ago… Read More ›
Song for April, 2008
It took me way too long to appreciate the nuance in that record, called April and released on April 1, 2008.
The new normal
The seam between winter and spring.
The art in the pharmacy
The art is what you can’t explain about why it made you feel the way it did.
Daydream requiem
One day it will be like this for me I thought.
Boy Scouts, coming for the dead
Outside the neighbor’s rhododendron was flapping, the tall trees swaying. We were between fronts. What they call a sun break out here. I remembered the Boy Scouts were coming for the dead Christmas trees but you had to have them… Read More ›
Hello, goodbye
In the dream I had just gotten a sleeve tattoo, like the armor on a teenaged mutant ninja turtle, panes from a tortoise shell, orange and red. And I was walking into the Starbucks corporate office for a new job,… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 