I keep a journal in a pocket notepad, but the journal is different from what I write here. The notepads cover about three months at a time before I get a new one, and then I save them in a… Read More ›
writing
Sneaking up on your readers: on trust, and surprise
A good surprise is a good thing, when it comes to film and literature. People like to be surprised, but not in a way that violates their trust. I can jump out at you from behind a bush and make… Read More ›
No present like the time
Ginger is on top of a stuffed rabbit with a squeaker, looks like she’s sodomizing it. The rabbit has a cartoon eye, looks nonplussed. Ginger thrashes it to break the neck, sniffs its underside, walks off distracted, comes back. I… Read More ›
Make Believe
Early morning moonlight on frost-covered fields, no sound. The white of the digital screen by the window: outside, the stars are Christmas lights along the roof lines, flickering. It’s like going back to the place where you grew up, everything’s… Read More ›
Happy poet blues: the upside of down
There’s some good that can come from feeling down. The punchline to most jokes is someone getting hurt and if that’s your life, now you’ve got something to work with. If nothing bad’s happened to you yet, you’ll have to… Read More ›
When night falls like this: life, in black and white
The streets are gray and everything on the edges has gone to brown, might be dead, hangs on waiting, like us. Looks dead, probably isn’t. I stare out the window at work and night has started at 4 o’clock. It… Read More ›
What happened in the middle
I’m happy for November because it’s the one year anniversary since I started writing again. It’s not what I’m writing that makes me happy, but the fact I’m doing it, and it’s changed the way I look at life. Last… Read More ›
Magic and Loss
I got stuck the last two days trying to write about Lou Reed, but it was me, not Lou Reed, that got in the way. Lou Reed doesn’t really have anything to do with it. He came up on Shuffle… Read More ›
Far From Home (Positively 5th Street)
The last time I went, they tore it down so it made me wonder if it was ever even there: that brick building by the art museum where I paid my first rent, on 5th and Hamilton street, Allentown, PA…. Read More ›
“Trapped in the amber of this moment”
I finished the Harry Potter series on Saturday, and felt the loss at the end of the story, no more. I got cranky and unmotivated, hard to be around. I started getting obsessed with death themes. I had a dream… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 