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prosaically yours

x = space

x

x

prosaically yours

more so more likely than versically

x

i’m tired

second cup of coffee

tv for distraction

more senses involved

than music

i should pray

i don’t what to say

could god answer anyway

there’s omniscience

after all

x

my eyes are tired

computer screens don’t help

nor does the time

i couldn’t sleep

rose well

into remaining darkness

wrote for hours

tried to sleep

wrote some more

that would be now

x

so here is

honestly

and what shall happen

next

is up to me

but i must manage balance

between staying in

to raise awareness

or going out

not so far

to run

to drive

some errands

x

like kenny loggins at

pooh corner

there are things to do

that are exigent

prescriptions to retrieve

gasoline to get beforehand

x

you know

i don’t have an

electric car

though i grieve historically

the stanley steamer

while i’ve only

come across

two pumps for electricity

in my collection

of small towns

what is the

strategy

for everyone

only charge our cars

at home

x

there is trash to take out

as well

first or last

and more

you know

always more

x

it’s friday

i should take the weekend

to bear it somewhere

fine

and i want

to say however plainly that

i hope you’ll carry yours

to such a place

as well

x

i should say toward the conclusion

not parenthetically

that I mourn

i talked with my sister for

a while last night

we talked

about our loss

and everything that still needs doing

that she’s doing mostly

my part is to buoy

x

if i pull that off

i should be helpful

which

is an impulse

or an instinct

from which

except in what were

and still might be

extreme and selfish times

it seems

i will not be released

x

not to speak to heroes

for companionship but

as much to say

i come from dust

x

c l couch

x

x

if it’s not friday for you

or even daytime

fill in with your own day

of the week

the weekend comes

or has arrived

regardless

x

photo by félix prado on unsplash

x

0

Ordinaryism

(x = space)

x

x

Ordinaryism

x

Well,

It’s less expensive

To take a table outside

A favorite place

Or to discover

Than to take a cruise

Or fly within

Something wide-bodied

Keeping the moving air

Of the fan

The air out of the nozzle

Going

x

Not that those things

Aren’t fine

They are

And we should like them

Should we have them

But if you have a friend at

Table anywhere

Maybe two friends

Maybe more

x

You are at

The high table in the great hall

Of monarchs

A gilded place

The café

Of your liking

Like the stories

And like Earth’s

And humankind’s

Storied luxuries

x

We have what we have

And let ambition call

And love each day

Find something

Change the quotidian,

If need be

Reach out

Get help

Maybe at that table

(try not

to apologize)

x

Or let the table simply be

An inexpensive place

And a gathering

Without agenda

Part of the joy

The easy joy

In having what the human world

Would say is not a game-show prize

But that you know

And your company

Is priceless

Because there is no price

Except for coffee

Maybe rolls or cake

Or whatever pleasure

The menu

And today

Afford

x

C L Couch

x

x

(I guess such a gathering might seem precious in the days of a pandemic, the reality and process, of learning how to wrap it in like SARS or H1N1 though of a worse disease—but I hope that one day easy meetings with our friends will happen once again; I’m sure the cafés hope so, too

yes, I know, we’re meeting now—I simply wish we’d work that out more safely)

x

Photo by Toa Heftiba on Unsplash

x

1

Twilight Narrative

(x = space)

x

x

Twilight Narrative

x

Long dream this morning

The kind when I wake

Then fall asleep again

About Bill

We took a trip together

Which we had never done

Some kind of blazing thing

A celebration of

The Midwest

Though we knew each other

In school

In the East

x

I got mad

And sad

Because I wanted to talk

With Bill about something

Happening to me

That I didn’t like my life

In Harrisburg

Wanting to say so

Wanting encouragement

Even advice

And he’d said nothing

x

I challenged him on that

A while later

(long dream)

And we got nowhere with it

We could perform

But we could not talk

Not for real

x

I woke up, realizing that

Bill would not go on another

Trip with me

And that was doubly frustrating

Mad

And sad

And then I remembered

That Bill

Had died

A brief while ago

x

My college roommate gone

With earthly friendship

Following

And I am sad

And sad

And sad

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash

x

Bill liked root beer, Dad’s; root beer is brown and dreams are wavy

x

5

devotional rant

(x = space)

x

x

devotional rant

x

i hear the cat upstairs

my brother dies from cancer

floods kill people

in the South

the Russian war goes on

and there are fires elsewhere

made by us

weapons

and-or

mania

x

there must be reasons for these

and there are

that might be the easy part

will

and stakes for will

this is not for training

this is real

i should say

i don’t know

how all this might apply

to what’s next

what’s coming

x

for now

the harder part

is having what we have

and turning victory

from unshapen shapes

of loss

the lathe of heaven

she writes,

refining all that’s here

x

and yet outside the story

(the story teaches)

we have

what we have

and must make do

and should do better

we should win

not over each other

but over demons

on the earth,

ones that are

ones we make

x

we know better

our skill is better

we can help each other

so much better

some do

the rest ought

to do

x

we have the instruments

play on

war on

peace on

x

c l couch

x

x

note

The Lathe of Heaven by Ursula K. Le Guin

x

Photo by Austrian National Library on Unsplash

x

1

Treading Dawn

(x = space)

x

x

Treading Dawn

x

First I think upon

The violet sail

Then the dragon’s head

That sees

Where we are going

But keeps its secrets

Then to notice that

The ship is moving

In the picture

Feel the air

Taste the air

It tastes of salt

Pure crystals from Narnia

Or a zone of it

Or the unbounded sea

x

It’s wet

I’m wet

And there it is

The last allowance

The rooms fills

We leave the world

To go to this one

However attached

Unattached

(its own)

To fall upon the deck

Or into the water

The kindly crew will help

Though there have

Been enemies

Fallen from outside

x

How might I prove

Intent?

Salute somehow?

That will not be enough

With the ship

We undulate

Upon the sea

While they make up their minds

My pockets empty

No weapons

(that might help)

I’ll sit here

On the melodious wooden deck

A while

While they decide

And should this be the start

Of another chapter

Either way

x

C L Couch

x

x

The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C. S. Lewis, third chronicle of Narnia

x

Photo by Raimond Klavins on Unsplash

The frigate Shtandart in calm weather.

Rīga, Латвия

x

2

Postcard at the Center

(x = space)

x

x

Postcard at the Center

(wishing you were here)

x

I am up early

The sun has yet

To shine

Or try through clouds

If that’s what happens

It’s going to be

A warmish winter day

Not that the climate’s warming

Or anything

x

The trees outside

Will look black against

The morning light behind them

The cars will pass by

Below,

Somehow magically muffled

By a Sunday morning

Eventually,

It will be time for church

For churchgoers

x

No comment

But some coffee

That was necessary

And gratified I had the fixings

For a gift

And for the time

x

That’s all

The card ran out of space

Above

I’m writing on the air beside

That might be sent

As well

Through something like the ether

If not cardboard

x

C L Couch

x

with gratitude for Carrie Fisher

x

x

Photo by Matt Hardy on Unsplash

Sydney Opera House

x

1

to an unknown god

(x = space)

x

x

to an unknown god

(acts 17:22-23)

x

the cars hiss outside

like snakes complaining

we had a storm

another might be coming

aren’t we always

in between

we can sleep

only through so much

and then must wake

if only to the aftermath

but then in earnest weather

we’d have been up

to take care of things

before the blow

the pounding of the fists

and stentor breathing

of an angry god

who cannot forgive

our not knowing its name

x

c l couch

x

x

photo by raychel sanner on unsplash

gathering storm over kansas.

x

note (c. f. earlier notes)

the computer’s back, I guess; if so, I’m thankful (thankful for the nonce, anyway)

merry eve before the eve

x

0

Late Cancer

(x = space)

x

x

Late Cancer

(diagnosed, lived out)

x

My brother

Might have to be moved

Again

He is frustrated

Wants to be home

Before he wanted to be

Elsewhere

But elsewhere isn’t working out

I understand

The purpose of a medical setting

Is not to settle in

But to leave

When well

Stay is contraindicated

Home

As it cannot be managed

Still remains the prize

x

He’s in pain

Palliation only goes so far

Before the pain

Folds in again

He’s also frightened

I would be

I am in contemplation

Though these are his days

And shall the cancer

Diagnosed too late

A year ago

Take him to another home

Prepared

At last

To last

x

But there’s today’s pain

I don’t know how to wish

The pain to go away

Without invoking

The scary, heavenly alternative

But prayers aren’t magic

We aren’t dealing with a genie

Waiting to misstep

Our hopes

In misspoken entreaties

Heal my brother

Still

Is every prayer’s day

That might make nothing happen

‘Til the pain-releasing thing

Must happen

Tragically for us remaining

For him who suffers

Most of all

x

It is late December

I agree it is a magic season

How much amazing

Might be borrowed

From days

Of extra stars and circles

Green and all the other colors

Only for him

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Kalle Kortelainen on Unsplash

[photographer’s narrative]

A crisp afternoon around 3pm in Dalsjöfors, Sweden these incredible snowflakes appeared on the hood of our car. You can almost hear the crisp snow creaking under the soles of the winter boots by just looking at them. Pure natural magic.

Dalsjöfors, Sweden

x

3

Grow Up, No, Grow Up

(x = space)

x

x

Grow Up, No, Grow Up

x

I wanted to be a normal child

And still

Qualify somehow

For Neverland

Or to ride a dragon

Unnegotiated

x

Something that’s quotidian

And wild

For an hour or so

A panic in a closet

‘Til the back is found

And open into

Covered branches,

Snowy trees

That beckon like

Fantastic men and women

And I shall have a part

In their next chapter

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Andrea De Santis on Unsplash

Night View of the Dragon Bridge

Da Nang, Vietnam

x

1

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