I rubbed the heels of my hands in my eyes and tilted my head back. Out here it is just the sound of birds, the neighbors never really out. The sound of a slow-moving jet, a passing car rippling out…. Read More ›
writing
Low relief
Clear, starry nights with no moon, no pollution, and no time I need to get up. The Hawaiian shirt John gave me that’s missing a button right where my gut sticks out, but I wear it anyway. And that one… Read More ›
Mondays don’t matter
It is the best day ever! A Monday, full-on sun, and I’m not working yet. I smoked a five-pound pork shoulder on the bone and weeded, planted flowers, just poured a beer and it’s only 3.
After all the jacks are in their boxes
I’ve been off for two weeks now. God, I love being off! A chance to unwind and relax, to live without the stress and distraction of work. Greens and purples in the garden to greet the new season. The dog… Read More ›
All these ironies we never asked for
The night settled in and we filled the valley with our campfire smoke. It plumed out blue making the hillsides misty like we were somewhere far away in the bush, just me and Neil Young, his guitar and harp.
Bull of the Woods
All there is today is to take a walk or fix dinner, to take my car and have it fixed. This is a Monday without attachment, a Monday that doesn’t stick to you. And for that it could be any… Read More ›
We are all under
We are all just trying to get by, living off trash and whatever we can.
“Weights”
We are animated by a force that inhabits this shell, bound to it.
This much madness is too much sorrow
Everyone wanted to know what Dawn was getting at the store and everyone had something to add to her list. I remember when Sunday nights turned into week nights because people would email and spin up work conversations about the… Read More ›
The interstitials
Sitting outside as the storm gathers, on the outer edge of it: thinking that all things have their edges good or bad, where they begin.
Bill Pearse 