Up again before the timed lights came on. And then they were on. The cold that has you coiled in on yourself yearning for warmth. First thoughts of the day, mirror image of the last: how the coffee tumbler was… Read More ›
poem
One chance
A bit of a brute, he was often found in the kitchen with his shirt off cooking, peeing in the garden beds or brooding by himself in the early morning dark. Sometimes he smelled. He was a hard man, but… Read More ›
Relapse dream replay
In that dream where I was drinking I could smell it, juicy red wine, and the smell was so real it’s like a part of me was actually drinking again and another part was thinking stop! but my whole face… Read More ›
No quarter
It happened too soon, the season of repose, I turned in too soon Me on that ridge alone in the summer by the mountain with no one around for miles Coming upon a buck then a bear, my voice echoing… Read More ›
The last time you tried to quit
You will go much further than you ever thought before you stop. You will even think I should quit, and yet you will keep going. You will do it time and again, and then you will say enough, you’ll stop… Read More ›
Father figure
Now gone a long time, you could vanish forever Both of you my patriarchs, gone the same year: Dick and John, father-in-law, stepdad Dick with your hands shaking holding the drill, helping you repair the front steps— John and your… Read More ›
New school blues
In the dream I am in my underwear and we are in a crowded public square this time of year, this going back to school time we are all of us in our underwear in our dreams looking down, wondering… Read More ›
Knowing what it’s like to be a snake
It was there on the trail I saw the snake and saw the world from that point of view To be a snake and never know what it was like to drive a car, read a book, or drink a… Read More ›
Orchid piece
In the dark, in the window, in its tiny pot the orchid grows. The angles and edges we hardly notice while the orchid works to inhabit its small space. And for us no different, the quiet stirrings, the browned leaves,… Read More ›
The back of love
I made a figure-four of my legs, and lay in bed longing for rest. This mattress, the same my mom and stepdad slept on for years. But after he died my mom moved to another room and the mattress remained… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 