Though it would hit 85 in Seattle (the last time for a year) I was sickly, pale and soft, an analogy to a piece of fruit that’s gone bad from the insides. I got off the phone with KLM to… Read More ›
inspiration
“Jimi thing”: last day on Whidbey Island, spring break ’17
The last morning I went down to the whale-watching bench to say goodbye and there were no sounds on a Saturday but the birds, a crow clicking on a totem pole, elderly folks shuffling up the sidewalks, bearded construction guys… Read More ›
The fear to really be | what scares us most, about art
It had been many months since I went around the corner from our house to the new development. Why would I?—turning left instead of right, I could go down to the lake. Turning right, and right again, they’d taken out… Read More ›
Magnificent return to splendor
All the grisly-bearded rooftops in the morning covered with frost, warming up the car. Realizing I’m falling into familiar work patterns, things I used to do in my last job: going out to the car a few minutes before I… Read More ›
A hot bath with David Bowie’s last record
At their height the veins in these hands looked like power cords, like ridge lines on the moon pumping blood from the heart to the fingers, swollen blue but now, more summertime worms scarcely seen, dried up, bloodless: there, it… Read More ›
The last of the pulled pork sandwiches
There was a time we used to just sit and watch our kids’ swim lessons at the Y and it was cute and sweet but that time has passed, and the last two days I take my laptop and wait… Read More ›
Fortune presents gifts not according to the book
That last Tuesday in Germany I had two Xanax I’d saved from the flight last summer and took one when I got back from the artist Matthias’s house, found our place a shit-storm of packing and bad energy and realized Dawn… Read More ›
‘Morgenstund hat Gold im Mund’
Some of the girls in the beer tent wear their hair braided Princess Leia style and some of them look like nymphs on a Led Zeppelin album cover crawling on rocks, or a Maxfield Parrish print lazing by the pool… Read More ›
Man has to be his own savior
LOCHINCH CASTLE, STRANRAER, SCT Cairnryan to Belfast ferry crossing 29th XI 2015 Full moon leaving Scotland, three nights in the chauffeur’s flat to get away from it all, to get away from everything else we’ve gotten away from. No Thanksgiving… Read More ›
First poem for fall
That first fall something found me there, the greys and browns of northwest Pennsylvania, what little light you find come November, the last of the leaves flapping just a few here and there, and yet … Read More ›
Bill Pearse 