Pearl Pirie’s lists, reviews, interviews, etc. since 2005

Top reads for 2026

So far, my fav reads of all genres are these with 6/14 being rereads. I realize the names alone are not giving much detail. I’ve only done reviews of a couple. Be that as it may,


The Last Song of the World by Joseph Fasano (Copper Canyon, 2024) [reread]
My Red, The Selected Haiku of John Stevenson (Brooks Books, 2021) [reread]
The Black Wolf by Louise Penny (Minotaur Books, 2025)
Screaming Obscenities at the Sky by Christian McPherson (At Bay Press, 2025)
Red Moon by Kim Stanley Robinson (Hachette Book Group, 2018)
Becoming Altar: New and Selected Poems by Kyla Houbolt (Suppress, 2025)
The Thirteenth Apocalypse by MissUnderstoodLyrics (AO3, 2025)
Cinema of the Present by Lisa Robertson (Coach House, 2014) [reread]
Weather by Rob Taylor (Gaspereau Press, 2024) [reread]
Do It Wrong: How to be a Poet in the Twenty-first Century by Derek Beaulieu (Assembly Press, 2026)
Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses by Kristen O’Neal (Quirk Books, 2022)
The New Road (is an Old Friend) by MisunderstoodLyrics (AO3, 2024) [reread]
Turtle Dreams: The Red Moon Anthology of English Language Poetry 2025, ed. by Jim Kacian (Red Moon Press, 2026)
No End in Strangeness by Bruce Taylor (Cormorant Books, 2011) [reread]

Ineffable

(It’s not exactly poetics, but it is fun, therefore poetry. )

Parallel play doesn’t have to be in-person so Bri and I, and the Hellhound—we seem to be pet-sitting for Adam— and a few hundred dozen ants, did a cosplay of our own local. (Ants were playing the role of a legion of demons.)

There are too many photos to dump on social media so I’ll have to link.

I must say I like the meeting place, across the road from Centre de L’Amour. (I’m sure that’s accidental.)

My favourite handsome devil was waiting for me with the Hellhound on the park bench.

They’ve spotted me.

We’ll wait until we’re sure no one has spotted us. Hard not to sit a little too close to be plausible hereditary enemies.

My favourite demon knows how to strike a pose.

Still time. We have the frozen peas, but no ducks. There was briefly a loon but she was uninterested.

To the world. I sense love.

Banana, fish, gorilla, shoelace with a dash of nutmeg, I may have overdone the miracling up of a picnic. That is a lot of food for two person-shaped beings.

The ants seem to have started before us. Hellhound appreciated his burger.

There was an unseemly loud vocalizations but I swear it wasn’t me. It seems it was a man down the shoreline who dunked into the water(?!) It is 13 degrees in the air(?!) Far too cold for swimming but he seemed to enjoy it. There’s no accounting for tastes.

Can I tempt you to some cheese? No that’s your job isn’t it? Ah, temptation accomplished.

Hellhound is getting restless for a walk. And the demon offers me a banana. *blush, blush*

btw, The Ineffable Con (next one Aug 21-23, 2026 in Cookham, UK and Online) raises money for alzheimersresearchuk.org in memory of Sir Terry Pratchett.

#RoadToGO3.

3 days left until #GoodOmens season 3!

Will we have sushi, crepes, or pizza to watch?

Spring Poem

the first sugar ant surveys the counter


lifting the silver brittleness of last years herbs, 
fresh oregano is clamped to the ground, more 
leaf than stem, more green than anything

except pincushion moss among its fellows 
and lichens crowding a planetscape on a boulder.
a housefly makes wobbly lobs of test flights.

clusters of junco flocks sweep tips of treetops.
a wooly bear sashays the road, determination in 
his direction and pace, while a mourning cloak rests 
nearby as if in the next comic frame, and in the third frame, 
blank gravel. the gr-unk gr-unk of geese heading north.
a garter snake with a lump of lunch in belly suns mid-lane.

spring peepers are massing and warming up their pitches.
a grouse at his lek booms, vibrates through my sternum 
from hundreds of feet away. on leaves, gelatinous 
egg masses glob here and there. a mole erodes into 
a squish of mould, wet pelt looking like a stone among stones.
his tunnels in hard snow remain, in their sporty convertible phase.

the gr-unk gr-unk of geese. the gr-unk gr-unk of geese.
a cluster of coltsfoot are in vibrant bloom outshining 
the sunniest spot while in shady waterfall ditches 

only its pink shocks of juicy rhizomes are exposed.
a turkey triples his size, fanning and pushing out 
his chest on a knoll like a politician campaigning 
while nine hens spread around him, their backs to him, 
pecking, but for all their insouciance, they have gathered 
and they linger. and soon enough the brood of chicks.

Out and about

Have you noticed how cooking and editing are comically ill-at-odds with each other? Did you know ravioli is edible after being cooked for at least 25 minutes and fried for the last few? *le sigh*

I have poems up at Thinking About Strawberries All the Time.

Did I mention the Griffin Prize wants feedback?

I have a poem up at National Poetry Month today.

I have review coming out soon on Tamil Terrains: poems, translations, reflections, edited by Nedra Rodrigo and Geetha Sukumaran (Trace Press, 2025) whichI found fascinating.

Of newsletters, the Weekly W.R.I.T.E.R. usually has good tidbits. Gary Barwin‘s is good too.

OPEN BOOKS, OPEN MINDS is a full-day book industry conference of the Association of English-language Publishers of Quebec, in-person in Montreal or online, on April 23, 2026. Further details are on their website.