Bill Pearse

Recent Posts - page 84

• Dead selves cleft off

  By Bill Pearse on February 22, 2018 • ( 14 )

  Though it snowed, it looked like fake snow, like film set snow, as I walked across the grocery store parking lot, past the primroses for sale all covered in plastic. I checked out a curry restaurant on a side strip-mall… Read More ›

• The fullness of empty spaces inside us

  By Bill Pearse on February 18, 2018 • ( 18 )

  

  I sat in the den watching Ginger chew the water buffalo horn, the wash of drool that makes it slick and hard to maw. I scratched the webbing behind my knee that’s been giving me trouble. There was a mild… Read More ›

• The Volvo 740 wagon

  By Bill Pearse on February 14, 2018 • ( 15 )

  Likely driven by ego, I volunteered for a new project at work. The announcement I’d be leading it came across as I was sitting in the dealership finalizing the purchase of a new car. The car is a black Mercedes… Read More ›

• ‘Einmal ist keinmal,’ 2018

  By Bill Pearse on February 7, 2018 • ( 10 )

  There were times I’d walk out into our garage and just stare. Stare at the progress I’d made to restore order which was rare, and worth staring at. The state of the garage is like an ocean beach, the calm… Read More ›

• Cord vs. chord, “ribbed fabric, especially corduroy”

  By Bill Pearse on February 7, 2018 • ( 23 )

  I texted Lily a Spotify URL for a song while they were at dance lessons: my other favorite singer Mark (Kozelek), in hopes she’d find a connection with him. For a month I drove to work with the same playlist,… Read More ›

• “In the morning there would be no Monday”

  By Bill Pearse on February 6, 2018 • ( 27 )

  Though I didn’t have the heat set high, when I came home the house felt warm. It felt warm with the aroma of life, lived in, of home cooking and freshly washed towels, kids coming of age, house plants, pets…an… Read More ›

• Poem written for my daughter on a cell phone

  By Bill Pearse on February 2, 2018 • ( 5 )

  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 ›

• Discreet Music | “Letter for 2018,” Jan. 31

  By Bill Pearse on January 31, 2018 • ( 32 )

  Jan. 31, 2018, Hi everyone, we’ve had a pretty good year here so far, we can’t complain. Mark Smith died (my favorite singer), and so did the wall clock in our den. I bought another one on Amazon but it’s… Read More ›

• The super, blue, blood moon blues

  By Bill Pearse on January 30, 2018 • ( 20 )

  We got up at 4:30 to watch it, but it was all cloudy. “Discreet music,” I guess. So much for January.

• Dover to Dunkirk, Jan. 31, 2016

  By Bill Pearse on January 29, 2018 • ( 22 )

  

  And just like that, January was over. It meant we could reenter the Schengen by way of France, spend a night, and the next day return to my mom’s house in Germany. The radiator crapped out on the Opel and… Read More ›

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