It’s a game where there is no winning, only the joy in the odd and unexplained.
identity
The strength of strings
I started to learn that to write is to live, and you can’t do much of the former without the latter.
You’ll get your comeuppance, work-life balance
The fallacies and paradox of separating work from life.
Once a parent
Lily makes a gun shape out of her hand and puts it to her mouth, pulls the trigger. This, on a Sunday in response to me reminding her that she needs to get ready for confirmation class, if she wants… Read More ›
There and not
The same collection of poems, taking it slowly, reading it since fall, not wanting it to end. And if only I could get a pinch of Carver in my work, that was the stuff! Even a shake could transform me…. Read More ›
Moderate rain starting in 15 minutes
All night I bathed myself in the rolling sounds of ambient music, an infinite loop, bobbing up and down And woke to the sound of one of the kids calling to Alexa, to turn theirs off And downstairs to the… Read More ›
When everything matters
It was like I’d just discovered the scale of life, that there was more of it than I could ever consume.
My old man pose
I ate last night’s dinner for breakfast, wild mushrooms in bone broth. I sat by myself in the nook chewing, contemplating the day. It passed without report. In the middle of the night the moon made the fog look like… Read More ›
All of us
How many selves do we get?
The grate-covered mineshaft seam
I tried to lose myself in the woods again and came upon the grate-covered mineshaft seam, a grid of rebar set above a dark, mysterious hole. It looked like a mouth in the ground yawning, dripping. I balanced on the… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 