Here was that spot I’d come to that day in the forest it was snowing. I’d been wanting to find this spot but the trails splinter off and I never look at the maps, I just splice the sections together… Read More ›
prose
Judgment
The trail is dry at the park and crunches underfoot. For the first time I brought a bunch of people with me to my morning walk, Dawn’s family who’s visiting from out of state. We’d just be out for an… Read More ›
Knees post
Like other kids growing up in the 70s my dad had a lead discus, a discus like the kind they throw in the Olympics, a discus that looked like a 1950s photograph of a UFO, perfectly saucer shaped and black,… Read More ›
Sun spots
I don’t think our shrubs like being pruned with a chainsaw. Some look traumatized. Years ago when our landscaping crew pruned they made everything look like lollipops. We’ve now grown out of that and I do it myself. After being… Read More ›
Burning man
Though it was early morning and a strange time to do it I lit a fire in the firepit with last night’s coals and the logs that were charred and dampened by the early morning rain. It could be hard… Read More ›
Sunday sermon
I went outside and sprayed coyote urine on the tulips to keep the deer and rabbits away. I don’t know if it’s coyote urine but it smells like hell. I don’t know how they get it in a bottle either…. Read More ›
Over the Neptune
This bar is his bar. What he’s like matters less than the personality of the bar he conforms to. We enter by the restrooms off to the side. It smells like what you’d expect from a city bar. But they… Read More ›
Non-pedigree version
For no obvious reason the cat paws at the framed painting on the wall of the den in the corner behind a tall bedraggled plant and beside a Tiffany lamp. They’ve now had to take down most framed pictures from… Read More ›
Post to 1970s me
I want the innocence of the 1970s again. Of rollerskating to disco music as a kid. Roller coasters, carnival food, the Jersey shore. Fireworks displays, sidewalk chalk, the ice cream man. I miss the feel of an old phone, a… Read More ›
Saturday morning entry
Closing my eyes to the after images of weed leaf patterns. The sharp edges of being fully in the now. Taken to mid-morning naps on the sofa in the den with the morning light and pets, a greenhouse warmth and… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 