Tag Archives: memory

To Rachel, at 30

Posted on November 16, 2025 by jillbpearlman

Rachel is ecstatic, sparks of static electricity travelingto, from and between her and us She may have rubbed her back on a charged shag rug Yesterday her last sunset in her 20s5:04, only the sun’s orange cap, 5:05, cap sinks into … Continue reading →

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The Blue Door in our Dreams

Posted on July 28, 2025 by jillbpearlman

There’s always a blue door in our dreams,in our former lives. A cerulean blue door, with wooden slats held by a small hook in the white plastered wall.   It opens, closes and opens, screeching like a sickowl, such are the vagaries … Continue reading →

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The Art (a)Part

Posted on December 8, 2024 by jillbpearlman

So many forebodings in the dark, so much dark.  The dark of the cinema spared by fire and bombs of a World War – my mom, that little redhead,  her Jersey drugstore, Fords, Astaire?  Now I understand the world so various – … Continue reading →

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The Heavy Click

Posted on March 31, 2024 by jillbpearlman

Because the couch didn’t mean anything to him –the guy I knew in my 20s who hightailed itevery time a girl moved her couch to his place.  Because he was foul-mouthed and funny, it stuck; I high-tailed it also, livingon my … Continue reading →

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Mellow the Morning After

Posted on December 25, 2022 by jillbpearlman

The morning after, the room exhalesits smoke and mellow wax.Bivalves cradle each other on a forgotten plate.Lip prints, crumpled napkins, the tint of sun like an unmade bed — all that happened, happened,in an instant of excess;like a poem, it … Continue reading →

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What gives in Florida, Hamlet?

Posted on December 18, 2017 by jillbpearlman

Petite mort, as the French call orgasm, is a little death but also an ecstasy.  And in ecstasy, experience compresses in a single dose of timelessness. By that logic, my quick trip to Florida last week was a little ecstasy. … Continue reading →

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