Bill Pearse

Recent Posts - page 5

• For Frank

  By Bill Pearse on November 25, 2025 • ( 11 )

  

  Great big scoops of sleep. Sleep like slipping down a sliding board. Pillowy clouds of sleep to sail away upon. Sleep like disappearing. Woke remembering my uncle Frank, brother to my grandmother, forever single. Why do they always pick on… Read More ›

• From the getting clean vignettes

  By Bill Pearse on November 24, 2025 • ( 9 )

  

  Bob had a beard before any of us. And I never saw him without his baseball cap. Bob drove a pickup truck, chewed tobacco and could always be counted on for having weed. Bob had a canoe too, so one… Read More ›

• Beware of Maya

  By Bill Pearse on November 23, 2025 • ( 4 )

  

  Drab autumn days. Leaves the color of old copper coins. Days meant for sofas and blankets and gloomy tunes. In short, my favorite kind of days. Days of tea and cloudy afternoons and poetry. Days of naps and not brushing… Read More ›

• Portrait of a domestic house cat

  By Bill Pearse on November 22, 2025 • ( 13 )

  

  When Timmy got agitated, which was often, he’d go to the wooden frames throughout the house and scratch. That or the carpets. He’d left the leather sofas alone but they were still ruined from him jumping up and down on… Read More ›

• Rorschach

  By Bill Pearse on November 21, 2025 • ( 13 )

  

  Up again before the timed lights came on. And then they were on. The cold that has you coiled in on yourself yearning for warmth. First thoughts of the day, mirror image of the last: how the coffee tumbler was… Read More ›

• Dark enough

  By Bill Pearse on November 20, 2025 • ( 6 )

  

  At last all the leaves were down. I used the tractor to grind them to bits and the blower to scatter the remains. In no time I’d been to Portland and back to the dark of my morning den. The… Read More ›

• One chance

  By Bill Pearse on November 19, 2025 • ( 14 )

  

  A bit of a brute, he was often found in the kitchen with his shirt off cooking, peeing in the garden beds or brooding by himself in the early morning dark. Sometimes he smelled. He was a hard man, but… Read More ›

• Field recordings, Portland

  By Bill Pearse on November 16, 2025 • ( 6 )

  

  I went back to Portland to see my childhood friend Loren for the night. Arrived early and left 24 hours later. We took our familiar walks and ended things where we started, at his local coffee shop, Keeper. In the… Read More ›

• Waning crescent

  By Bill Pearse on November 15, 2025 • ( 8 )

  

  Made plans to drive to Portland for the weekend and see my childhood friend for a night. Woke at 0330 too excited to sleep and used my phone light to pack an overnight bag: just my toothbrush and night guard,… Read More ›

• Salad days

  By Bill Pearse on November 14, 2025 • ( 2 )

  

  I remember leaving that apartment on Spring Street. It was the first place I lived alone after breaking up with my girlfriend. Spring is one over from Union on the edge of Seattle’s Capitol Hill, inside the Central District. Not… Read More ›

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