Bill Pearse

Recent Posts - page 27

• Opening track

  By Bill Pearse on June 23, 2024 • ( 12 )

  

  So much drama in these clouds it could be late summer, pre-autumn. All the limbs waving and the windmill going, the swoosh of the leaves. I am out with the headphones on a walk and the Moody Blues again, a… Read More ›

• Last number for the season

  By Bill Pearse on June 16, 2024 • ( 6 )

  

  Dozing on the sofa on a Saturday with just the sound of clocks and some far-off engine. Days of Future Passed by the Moody Blues and all this rumination on time. The record is draped in the 60s and feels… Read More ›

• Everything we have we’ll lose

  By Bill Pearse on June 2, 2024 • ( 6 )

  

  When you say goodbye to someone you love it’s a knife’s edge between the past and present. They are both with you and not. It can feel like the amputee’s phantom limb or Schrödinger’s cat, the seam between seasons when… Read More ›

• Coming Home the First Time after Our Son Died

  By Bill Pearse on May 23, 2024 • ( 5 )

  Someone had taken small rocks and shaped theminto a heart in the center of our driveso when we arrived, we knew we were not alone.At the front door, … Coming Home the First Time after Our Son Died

• On the plane to Barcelona

  By Bill Pearse on May 12, 2024 • ( 8 )

  

  On May 1 I took a one-way flight from JFK to Barcelona but when I landed the airport was closed, the workers on strike for May Day, the only occupants a group of young Spaniards in uniforms with beards and… Read More ›

• Ninety-nine words or less

  By Bill Pearse on May 5, 2024 • ( 5 )

  

  Not reams of it, but baskets full of bad poetry. Enough to take up the corner of a normal-sized room. Haphazardly put there without regard. Left-behind objects of nominal worth. Left out in the sun or the rain too long… Read More ›

• Sunday morning on Capitol Hill

  By Bill Pearse on April 28, 2024 • ( 22 )

  

  When I came to Seattle in my 20s it felt like anything was possible. We drove from Philadelphia with all our possessions, my girlfriend and our books, jade plants, my two cats Pokey and Sherman. Passing through the last leg… Read More ›

• Primitive painters

  By Bill Pearse on April 16, 2024 • ( 8 )

  

  There are parts of the chicken that don’t look like they should be eaten but dad does anyway, hunched over the table and working it with his hands and lips. Because he’s missing some teeth dad doesn’t chew as much… Read More ›

• Near adults, just kids

  By Bill Pearse on April 13, 2024 • ( 25 )

  

  I always did mushrooms on an empty stomach. That’s what my friend John Kimmich said to do. We’d sit in that shithole apartment on our recliners staring at the TV waiting for it to kick in. It was always the… Read More ›

• My new content series, Gig Work

  By Bill Pearse on March 23, 2024 • ( 21 )

  

  Fifteen years ago I started a blog. For the first three years, no one liked, commented, or followed me. And that was okay because I didn’t know what I was doing. You can call those first three years my online… Read More ›

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