I get behind two lesbians in the Italian market, this medieval town in Germany — the market, no bigger than an elevator car, a telephone booth, and I say to the guy behind the counter you can leave the cheese… Read More ›
humor
The skin beneath my chin has the feel of waterfowl
Mom woke to hardened blood in her bedding about the size of a tea cup saucer and couldn’t find the source, asked if the cat menstruates but she can’t, we had those organs taken out, and it wasn’t the dog… Read More ›
Peeing on Switzerland
Ralf pokes the scat with the tip of his trekking pole and says in English it’s fresh, from earlier today. And the wind changes direction, it’s coming from Switzerland now, and I don’t know if that’s good or bad but… Read More ›
How the rock bands formed the Alps
If there’s such a thing as a German version of Robert De Niro it’s Eberhard with his constant wince, his diamond studded earring and pony tail coming undone, the wraparound sunglasses, the AC/DC ringtone. The wince could be from too… Read More ›
First day of school in Germany
Homeschooling started on a Sunday in early August, definitely not in the States anymore. We weren’t ready but the kids were, so we started with a discussion about date and time formats, how they’re different here, and why. But I… Read More ›
The infinity mirror
There are many clocks in my mom’s 500-year-old house but none of them agree on the time, they’re all about 10 minutes off and it’s unclear which one is right — so instead we go by the town church bell, and… Read More ›
The French series
COLLIOURE, LANGUEDOC-ROUSSILLON LES BATTERIES 25TH VII 1998 Finally got rid of Sean and Seamus. Sean, my bartender friend from Six Arms but Seamus, some angry Canadian/Irish guy he picked up somewhere along the way in Europe, wears baseball caps with… Read More ›
They pulled in just behind the bridge
BESIGHEIM, BADEN-WÜRTTEMBERG 1ST VIII 2015 Dawn and I lay in bed with our arms threaded through each other’s until I lost track which were mine and which were hers, but I could tell she was awake despite the time, so we… Read More ›
An honest living
We unroll a map of Scotland that hangs off the edges it’s so big, can’t fit on the table. Some coarse navigating between destinations, time tables, circling forests and lochs, places they make Scotch. Late October, Scotland. October leaning into… Read More ›
Half a summertime ago
I’ve taken to a big steer named Cowboy who lives over the hill from my mother-in-law’s at the Second Hand Ranch, where they take in animals who would otherwise be turned into coats or eaten. But flies gather around his… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 