When my mom asked if I needed a pair of warmer socks for our walk (I’m 45) I reminded her this is the guy who’s slept on the side of glaciers and gotten up in the middle of the night… Read More ›
New York
Open your heart to a map of the badlands
Peel drew a map on a cocktail napkin: a laundromat between Avenue A and Avenue B on the lower east side, New York. He said they sell it right there on the street, through a gate. I took a bus… Read More ›
The Waiting Room
Peel died of a heroin overdose in a cheap New York hotel, probably exactly what he wanted. I saved a letter he wrote in 1992, with his careful, shaky verse: instead of my name in the address line on the… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 