There is nothing ordinary or light about you. You don’t look into the camera, you look down or sideways. You do that because the weight is too much for anyone to bear, the weight of your gaze. You know that,… Read More ›
poem
Song for Billy Collins
All night while we sleep in the dark of the kitchen by the sink the coffee tumbler stands on its head upside down like a yoga pose in the drying rack beside the Belgian beer glass, the salad spinner, the… Read More ›
Off the coast of Connemara
We did not know it then, we drove to the end of the world on a nameless peninsula, a spit off the edge of Ireland, some cheap car we rented in Dublin, a stick, we drove all day across that… Read More ›
Feed
No one uses the dining room for dining, the dining room is a joke.
Life after Homeland
How could life ever be the same now that we’ve finished eight seasons of this Showtime original featuring Mandy Patinkin as Saul Berensonand Claire Danes as the unpredictable Carrie Mathison.We’ve pored through the evils of this worldforeign and domestic and… Read More ›
Before there were selfies we just had ourselves
One by one they led us to a room with a stool and a camera and a blank screen. And took a DNA sample of our souls for a square in a frame to disperse on the winds. And that… Read More ›
Reckoning
It is uncommon and natural at the same time. In that bleak no tomorrow of only today the rain returns with a familiar slap. The languid tones play out. Reckonings, a stutter-step forward like some dream we’re a part of,… Read More ›
Face ID
The reflection throws back a version of myself that’s real but see-through The gray light of day. The pattern of squares across my window pane. The sound of a record from another time projecting me backwards and setting me down… Read More ›
No difference on deck or overboard
How the tall trees swayed in the middle of the night in that strange pale glow not from a moon but god knows what all of us awash with a storm spitting sideways as if we were all hanging onto… Read More ›
Boy Scouts, coming for the dead
Outside the neighbor’s rhododendron was flapping, the tall trees swaying. We were between fronts. What they call a sun break out here. I remembered the Boy Scouts were coming for the dead Christmas trees but you had to have them… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 