You can see the inevitable setup as they start from opposite ends: These two, sure to meet amid the others, drawn together by some force either atmosphere or fate Slow-motion as they touch, a gradual loss of each other once… Read More ›
poem
Maps are approximations
Man sketches Earth: Earth bears us up, draws us down Man gives names to things, to own: “Elliot Bay.” “Mercer Island.” The land and the water meet where the people come, But the land needs no name.
Song for summer
The morning is damp Constellation of birdsong Punctuation by frog, by crow The Earth bends on itself and we grab hold: our feet to the sky, hair to the ground, stomachs in our chest There is surf, seagulls, the sound… Read More ›
Currency
Paper soul, face soft as a coin’s on its back, on the pavement Looking out the world from the inside of a jar: We are touching but can’t see, can’t hear, just waiting to be exchanged at face value.
The sun took my eyes and put them on the moon
The face on the moon is a mask, a caricature, a serial killer, no different than mine: it always looks sad, alone, surprised to find itself so far out there on its own.
Bill Pearse 