In the corner of my yard in the mid-afternoon heat in my hammock with Pablo Neruda between my legs, my glasses off, bare-chested and unbathed, I think about death: my body a lump in a sack swinging here: all this,… Read More ›
Poetry
The crow can’t sing, it clicks
Down the blooms fell, a different kind of fall. We did the spatchcock chicken again with the New Orleans rub and the leftover corn and asparagus. It was one of the best days I had at my new job, and… Read More ›
Blurred passage to poem
How the poem appeared an object in the mist I paddled toward and circled round And though it was odd and lustrous, with living things nesting and squirming inside, it was too tall and slick for me to climb. Better… Read More ›
Last night on 29th place, SE
We really lived in that house, if it was the wrapping we were the candy, the present, and inside there stirred our souls and the house bore witness and the calendar pages flipped, the seasons passed, our photos on the… Read More ›
Stones and bones [cemetery song]
Once you make a major purchase (house, car, major appliances) things invariably start breaking down and costing more money. Things break in multiples, the same with bad omens (in 3’s, 5’s, 7’s, like the number of days you can expect… Read More ›
Poem written for my daughter on a cell phone
How hard you wanted for that moment and lifted your chin for a scratch and so vivid it was, as you forgot — and the feeling hardly a memory or a glance, the way with dreams you’re sure it was… Read More ›
Last reflection before bed
The essence of the day was lost to the holes and spaces where memory goes, the leaks and gaps that take what you don’t see. And sad to think, a whole life can pass by like that, unseen. Photo from… Read More ›
Song for company reorganizations in F sharp
Now there’s a different feel to the company for those who have been there long enough and know what to expect: It’s half-way through the fiscal cycle so they know how they’ve done the first half and can predict the… Read More ›
Dark morning walk
Now the dark you thought would abate just hangs on (or lightens, depending on your point of view) still it’s hard to change from what window you see the world, that view.
Painting lessons for pessimists
The future is a sham of hope and fear- based paints that can’t advance beyond the crudeness of our own imagination.
Bill Pearse 