The streets are gray and everything on the edges has gone to brown, might be dead, hangs on waiting, like us. Looks dead, probably isn’t. I stare out the window at work and night has started at 4 o’clock. It… Read More ›
pacific northwest
Poet modeling: notes from the dentist’s waiting room
I walk the city in the morning as it’s waking up: shop owners sweeping the sidewalks after the storm, lights coming on in the apartment windows, a million lives to live in the red brick buildings overlooking the city, due… Read More ›
The New Gothic
I don’t know what brought on this movement in the 70s, but I’m glad for it: glad, because there’s gloomy music I can turn to for inspiration. Glad, because I know there’s others with dark thoughts who stick to the… Read More ›
Caught between the slide alder and Charybdis
Brad over-estimated my climbing abilities and I didn’t know enough to know I had, too. We got the idea to climb a couple peaks in the Olympic mountains in early November, which is hard because you have about half the… Read More ›
Sunbreak
Unsteady steps on a Saturday, counting the days down. Sunday’s trash night. Monday’s swimming, Tuesday’s soccer. I’ve grown to hate the pedestrians out here. Everything about the west coast I love but it’s the pedestrians, the way they gloat, the… Read More ›
Punk rock play in the suburbs
I don’t fit in here and I don’t want to. But I catch myself wearing my work badge on my belt and strolling out of the grocery store with my six-pack, and I bet the kids who bag and collect… Read More ›
A Golden Retriever called America
Two grandparents with their daughter and a chunky Golden, with a white beard and a smile in her eyes. They named the dog America, born on 9/11. The grand-daughter wasn’t alive yet. The dog’s 100 in dog years, has lived… Read More ›
The scale, the mirror, the referee (Project Manager rant on roles, responsibilities)
My stomach made a creaking, shifting sound like an old battleship. I looked at the others in the conference room and they looked back at me, waiting for my reaction, would I acknowledge the sound and be embarrassed by it,… Read More ›
Fourth Creek Trail Junction
We’re supposed to recreate the hiking-bonding moment with Charlotte, the same one I had with Lily, but we can’t because of a funeral, and I wind up taking both girls instead. That means carrying three sleeping bags, the tent, extra… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 