I sat at the bar watching golf. Behind me, three general contractors who swore a lot, talking about their jobs. I thought about saying something. I pictured how I’d do it. But after listening to them for a while, like… Read More ›
prose
‘Jesus cleanse’ this:
I tried to get into bed to read, the dog was there. I had my phone and Bluetooth speaker. My friend Mike was texting me about his speakers, sending photos, telling me what he was listening to. I got an… Read More ›
In the white room with black curtains near the station
March came and so did the arborist, all of it on its sides sagging down: the trees and shrubs, the lawn, moss taking over but I like the moss, it leaves your outline after you lie in it. We hadn’t… Read More ›
That exquisite pose, prose
It wasn’t supposed to snow or smell like dog puke still in the corner of the sofa but it did both (it smelled and snowed), and I tightened my scarf and went out after dark but it was starting to… Read More ›
The month’s last Saturday’s gift is gray
Oh for these last gray days and new moons. For Orion’s belt in the north, in the night. For our yard leaning on its side and the papery brown fronds hanging down. For the milky sun and messy watercolor blues,… Read More ›
Stick this in your LinkedIn profile
When I met the other consultant the first thing I thought was god, he’s young and the next thing, god, I’m old…I’d been out of the workforce about a year, maybe two…but I felt much older than that, I felt… Read More ›
The circular references in stairwells and turnstiles
In the bath I wrote a poem comparing fruit to genitalia and in our den tried to relax but the record player’s so fussy it requires adjustment, like a harmony of adjustments between the settings for arm tension and anti-skating,… Read More ›
The color of late afternoon, snow covered slopes
When we found out the kids’ school was cancelled for snow I made them stay up with me until midnight (Dawn was gone), they both fell asleep on the sofa, we’d been out in the storm past 10 and the… Read More ›
Sunday morning salutation
When the sun rose you could hardly tell. A set of bats stirred from their perch, and were gone. The whole tree, made of bats. Some branches wagged and bobbed, didn’t say a word. The gray inaction, Sunday morning. Even… Read More ›
A degree off from beige
I don’t know why, but I built a fire out back in the afternoon and stood by it. It got so cold one night a planting pot blew out the side and hung open like a cartoon mouth on a… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 