two fresh-baked works from ridiculous to personally at least sort-of maybe/maybe not sublime


Ides of March Eve
(or Pie with a Protractor)

3.14
Forget the year

Pi Day
Have some pie
A tasty metaphor
The circumference of
Which
Requires pi
To be determined

All our work in circles
Determined by a number
A function
That’s unsolvable

And yet
We build our arches
We have all our round things

The math might be frustrated
And sorry to
Computers
But our stone tools
Might have worked just fine
Without it

Without pi
Though it’s Pi Day
So let’s have a slice
That has a
Radius
With somehow
A part
Of the arc around

And maybe not get started
On the spheric calculation
Of
Each blueberry


The Morning Rush

Somedays
I wake
And try to make everything
Fit
Starting in my head
Into a style
If not a way

Simply
A few things to like
Some
Favorite flavors

A few items of clothing
Shoes
That fit easily

A car that might need work
No doubt from
Time
To time
But that gets around
From here to there and back
Again
While I may listen to my books
While on the road

A place to live
That’s quiet enough
Normal noise
Allowed
Even preferred
To gravestone silence

A thought
To work
That I can do
Beyond the blogging
Or maybe learn
A dollar
Two dollars
More
From the daily work
With any decent accomplishment
From the crafting and the
Posting
Though I don’t know
It seems skittish on many glassy surfaces
Inside
To consider

More exercise
Less weight
The national pastime that isn’t
Baseball

And with more study
And some interaction with
Like-
Minded people
Too

A church that I might stand
And might stand me

A life with God
That’s
Wel
Not palpable
For now
But authentically affirmed
And stretched out through the hours
Like
Taffy
Or an impossible balloon

Something with taste
(even savor)
Something to enjoy
Even remarkably

And
You know
It will not happen
There’s not enough allowance
Or belief
From the world
Not simply to help
But to permit
Because our life
Force
Is worked on by so many propositions
That become
Well
Impositions

What
To buy
How to vote
What
To believe as coded by
The pundits some of whom
Get elected

And
I’ll keep my faith
Of course
My discomfit with the world
Hoping for a purer
Uncultish Earth
Fitzgerald
This
Side of paradise

Sigh
Keep waking
And keep dreaming after
Waking


C L Couch


Photo by Kura Tregenza on Unsplash