William Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose.
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Recent Posts
- Wednesday’s twilight anthem September 21, 2017
- Then the rain came September 20, 2017
- Anthony’s Navel: Chauncy Gardiner on The Fountainhead September 19, 2017
- They know it’s time to go September 17, 2017
- ‘Essence of Cessna’ | on success September 13, 2017
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People’s Poet
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Lost in the clouds
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Tag Archives: prose
Wednesday’s twilight anthem
The Jupiter’s Beard is fanned-out pornographic in our front yard, exposed to the root. And the grass is so dead, it’s what Gregg Allman’s beard must have looked like before he died, the same gold-straw color, drawn out thick. It’s … Continue reading
Posted in Memoir, musings, prose, travel
Tagged Gregg Allman, Maxfield Parrish, Memoir, mid-life crisis, pacific northwest, prose, Scotland, sense imagery, travel, William Pearse writer, writing
19 Comments
Bikes, trailers, dogs, coolers: five days in Montana (some Wyoming)
Just like me, the moon’s gone plump from too many long nights and early mornings, hard to get into its jeans, and only noticed by fools and dreamers, the mad. The sky ran down from blue to pink to jack … Continue reading
Posted in prose, travel
Tagged humor, Montana, parenting, prose, road trip, stream-of-consciousness, wildfires, William Pearse writer
17 Comments
One window ajar, first light on Pine Lake
I sat outside under a tree with King Tubby playing on my Bluetooth speakers and crocosmia fronds tickling the air, the moon a half melon, the whites of my nails. Talked to my dad across the country, the sound of … Continue reading
Posted in musings, parenting, prose
Tagged family, Father and Son, father identity, humor, identity, King Tubby, Memoir, mid-life crisis, pacific northwest, parenting, Patti Smith, prose, stream-of-consciousness, summer, travel, William Pearse writer
9 Comments
Straw-colored grass, a bed of needles
The owl-eyed veterinarian talks too fast, wears her hair in a bun. The bun’s so tight it makes her eyes bulge. It’s always the same, we care about our dog and cat’s health, we start with good intentions. But her … Continue reading
Posted in musings, prose
Tagged cats, humor, Maxfield Parrish, prose, suburbs, summer grilling, William Pearse writer
29 Comments
You think that you can front when Revelation comes?
Well into the afternoon the house still smelled like bacon. I sat and watched the lawn sprinkler, tried to think about nothing. The last day in D.C. I got up at 6 and walked down to the White House, the … Continue reading
Posted in musings, prose
Tagged Bancroft quotes, Beastie Boys, DC, dystopia, Lincoln, prose, stream-of-consciousness, Tolkien, Trump, White House, William Pearse writer
22 Comments
Love songs, prose, for the Pacific coast
How the clouds hung on the horizon off the water and made two lines, I thought they were grinding their teeth. All the mountains ground down from the pressure of the sky pushing on them and the earth, where they … Continue reading
Posted in prose
Tagged beach hiking, existentialism, mountain imagery, mountain symbolism, mountains, Oil City, Oil City hike, Pacific Coast, pacific northwest, prose, soul-searching, souls
12 Comments
‘One more time around’
Now there’s a new sound in the back yard, the sound from the cottonwood leaves when the wind comes in from the west, and all those tiny hands clap, and remind me of the tide coming in or going out, … Continue reading
Posted in Memoir, music, musings
Tagged 90s music, Alice in Chains, Chris Cornell, grunge, Memoir, pacific northwest, postaday, prose, William Pearse writer
16 Comments
