Bill Pearse

Recent Posts - page 114

• The shoulder seasons

  By Bill Pearse on December 11, 2016 • ( 19 )

  

  Friday, 9 Dec 16: mom looked out the front door and winced. Two hour snow delay but it all turned to rain, and now the lawn looks patchy and white like a grisly, old dog. Stayed up late watching it,… Read More ›

• After most humans were gone and it was just the robots

  By Bill Pearse on December 10, 2016 • ( 25 )

  

  One day the robots started to romanticize the humans, what little they knew about them. They formed robot families, small social structures, gathered around screens. There was a film in black and white set around Christmas time with fake snow… Read More ›

• If the world could be a sweater and I could try it on before buying it

  By Bill Pearse on December 9, 2016 • ( 18 )

  

  Bit by bit he watched all the iPods, phones, and tablets come back ashore, come back to the store with their cords and their cases, and he put them in a box in the back to be picked up on… Read More ›

• Record lows prose, mid-December blues

  By Bill Pearse on December 8, 2016 • ( 14 )

  

  I think the iPod gave up the ghost tonight. Outside after dark in the garden beds peeing how quiet and cold, so dry and cold, it’s like every individual hair in my nose feels it and quivers, it’s like all… Read More ›

• First night with the lights

  By Bill Pearse on December 7, 2016 • ( 9 )

  

  The hail fell, a proxy for the snow, but the cold made the windows fogged around the edges like it was matted, and it took me back to that house in Bethlehem where we lived, that night it kept snowing… Read More ›

• The cure

  By Bill Pearse on December 3, 2016 • ( 19 )

  

  In the future, they developed a cure for alcoholism. The cure was a serum injected in your body if you chose, but irreversible. And there was a small percentage of people where it didn’t take and the next time they… Read More ›

• Don’t blame Belfast, ’16

  By Bill Pearse on December 2, 2016 • ( 23 )

  It was in Belfast this time of year we learned Charlotte can sleepwalk. It’s not like a special power sleepwalking, more a defect. The house was really small with steep stairs and I had the coal stove going all night… Read More ›

• Whatever happens between now and December, keep it between us

  By Bill Pearse on December 1, 2016 • ( 20 )

  

  This time of year 2012 I kind of snapped. Dawn asked what’s wrong and I started crying, said I needed to write. We went to Germany for Christmas and I had this transcendental sense reopening thing when I heard a… Read More ›

• Spellbound colander of treetops amid bruised cloud aperture

  By Bill Pearse on November 30, 2016 • ( 24 )

  

  It’s funny, when I think about James Joyce now I wonder how much of his art is judged by what he said vs. how he said it, the fact he freed others to rethink writing: or that his book went… Read More ›

• A day in the life, a life in the day

  By Bill Pearse on November 29, 2016 • ( 13 )

  

  29 Nov 16: Tuesday, got home from work, really felt like a man, spit in the toilet, regarded my slacks, my pose, thought I should heat the hot tub for later. Realized how petty I was and didn’t care, gloating… Read More ›

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