This morning the fog was so thick on the plateau it blurred all the trees but when I got up the road you could see the very edge of it, like where the fog officially began or ended in the… Read More ›
prose
The last night of the fair
Fried pie, gator kabobs, a handwritten sign that says This isn’t fast food it’s fresh food so thanks for being patient. T-shirts like I got SCONED at the fair (with a big scone). A sexualized version of the little mermaid… Read More ›
First Sunday in Germany
This is a series of posts written from my mom’s house in Germany, this one titled the same as my first post on WordPress written 15 years ago this month. And just like I did every time Eberhard picked us… Read More ›
Last number for the season
Dozing on the sofa on a Saturday with just the sound of clocks and some far-off engine. Days of Future Passed by the Moody Blues and all this rumination on time. The record is draped in the 60s and feels… Read More ›
On the plane to Barcelona
On May 1 I took a one-way flight from JFK to Barcelona but when I landed the airport was closed, the workers on strike for May Day, the only occupants a group of young Spaniards in uniforms with beards and… Read More ›
Ninety-nine words or less
Not reams of it, but baskets full of bad poetry. Enough to take up the corner of a normal-sized room. Haphazardly put there without regard. Left-behind objects of nominal worth. Left out in the sun or the rain too long… Read More ›
Near adults, just kids
I always did mushrooms on an empty stomach. That’s what my friend John Kimmich said to do. We’d sit in that shithole apartment on our recliners staring at the TV waiting for it to kick in. It was always the… Read More ›
The drive back from Portland
The drive back from Portland is not just a drive back from Portland, it’s every drive you’ve ever made. It’s the roadtrips with the family, the one you made to the Redwoods, the one with a girlfriend in the late… Read More ›
Postcard from pinklightsabre
Woke to the sound of German choral music and then spent an hour cooking a roux. Drove to the park but had to keep stopping to take pictures of the sky. Pink in every direction, peaks white with snow. Ran… Read More ›
May you let me be forgotten
Finally lying down again. All these cherry blossoms like handfuls of confetti coming down. That and some birds tweeting and the neighborhood kids playing. In spring you forget everything bad it seems. Fall and winter give us plenty of time… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 