This bar is his bar. What he’s like matters less than the personality of the bar he conforms to. We enter by the restrooms off to the side. It smells like what you’d expect from a city bar. But they… Read More ›
pacific northwest
Post to 1970s me
I want the innocence of the 1970s again. Of rollerskating to disco music as a kid. Roller coasters, carnival food, the Jersey shore. Fireworks displays, sidewalk chalk, the ice cream man. I miss the feel of an old phone, a… Read More ›
Morning’s mantra, April
Springtime is one of the most beautiful times where we live. It’s a bath of sensory delights, especially in early morning. The distant woodpecker rattle, the sweet birdsong as it builds. Some crows and repetitive sounds all layered together. I… Read More ›
One more wish
That was it. Sometimes I could see how the rest of my life would play out by the way it was going day by day. We watched the sequel to Dune, that world’s lore, the large underground worms and the… Read More ›
Birth, rebirth
That janky toilet seat always leaned left, the toilet paper holder too. In the early morning the body signaled what it would feel like later in life. Early morning or late night it was hard to tell which was which,… Read More ›
Portrait of a snowman with dead grass for hair
All this snow lying around still, like frosting on a gingerbread house. At the park when it’s still dark walking a path between the setting moon and rising sun. Bit by bit the snow receded, leaving splotches of black stains… Read More ›
First Saturday in Washington
No moon at 3 AM but twinkly stars and lawns covered in white, the failing charge of the solar-powered footpath lights made a weak ghostly hue. Had to look up “what to do about itchy scalp” and wondered, could it… Read More ›
On Jackson Street
I used to come down to Pioneer Square over my lunch hour to kill time. When my job didn’t matter much, no one cared if I was there, and I’d roam the side streets and street corners dreaming. Old Seattle,… Read More ›
Two sides of the same coin
It’s gotten increasingly harder to take all-cold showers as the season’s worn on. But it never disappoints, that first moment of sensory shock. Scenes of women giving birth in the Baltic from some grainy film we watched when Dawn was… Read More ›
The last night of the fair
Fried pie, gator kabobs, a handwritten sign that says This isn’t fast food it’s fresh food so thanks for being patient. T-shirts like I got SCONED at the fair (with a big scone). A sexualized version of the little mermaid… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 