like the psalmist foe-surrounded
poverty
or
surfeit
which we find by the world
by the devil
have betrayed us
what is left
despite the industries
I
do not know
and
who shall help me
say
with parameters
to break them as I can’t
while I invest my energy instead
on
what I thought I had back then
and didn’t
though I keep going back to
find
and then fix everything
to break the barriers
as bars
not with energy
deserved
but
with the strength shared me
resources to
freedom
by grace that
is
the merit going
graciously
unasked
yet
to be caught
and looped
and unbelieving and still
asking
too often without listening
of
who shall help with the problems
I can’t
breathe through
who shall help me more than
I know how to ask
then
so by asking
once
in forever
though there are the stories
delivered
by
Reverend Henderson
in
sermons and who knows
what anthology from which
came
the accounts
regardless
of the people in a raft
having survived
the wreck
maybe abandoned for another
reason
and what they know
all they know is ocean all around
until
the rescuers
arrive
then tell survivors that
for temerity
or
the lack
they could have reached
down and
drunk at anytime
for they were in the great
releasing of fresh water by the unseen
Amazon
too far the given land
on either side
to spy
or of the woman who had won
a trip
a cruise
(that
did not wreck)
and she was poor
and so ate crackers in her stateroom
for her meals
until
one day the captain should find her
to say
the meals were included in the prize
you should have been dining at
my table
every night
sufficiency
and then amazed abundance
without
question of deserving
to drink fresh water
to
dine with the captain
of the sound
ship
questing all the time
so try
but do not condemn oneself for merit
not canceled but
fulfilled
by grace
that
reminds us
even takes us to salvation
so that the last thing we might worry
over
might be perfection
or to have lost everything by
failing
when like water
like
the feast close by
before us
are set
yes
there is a judgment
and each time for each one
a mercy
clc
(Reverend Henderson was the preacher whose messages I received in church while I was a child)
photo by Claudio Schwarz on Unsplash
the tiniest of plagues
(part 3)
exhale
there is a new mattress
I have to wait until it bubbles out
or whatever
so I use the mildewed couch
until
I’m free to have it
taken out as
well
and then what
some
bedding
hopefully
unmildewed
and
I hope that I can still tell
and then to spray the room
consider anything
else
infected
wait for a dry day maybe with
a breeze
and
then shall I use the studio again
unsmelling
save
for Febreze and Lysol
more or
now and then
and
otherwise
the air we know
that all of us should know
without
cordite
or sickness
or the uselessness in smelling
anyway
for lack of food
lest scent become a mirage
for life
and by the way
my eyes
should clear
our eyes should clear
clc
photo by D koi on Unsplash
campaign in the studio
spray
layer
spray
layer
spray the room again
is it chemicals or mildew I’m inhaling
while
of course
you know
it’s both
new mattress
new sofa must follow
musty curtains down
as if light and breeze had been let in
at Ms Faversham’s feast
breathe
changes
though the must continues
to permeate
room
nose
clothes
well
keep trying
I’ll take retroactive
the air when it was only
dirty
I suppose a northern autumn
shall help when
it arrives
with clear cold to push through windows
in
a current
now it’s steamy
not good
for dry
and certainly not cool
except for how you might behave
cool
Daddio
clc
photo by Gabriella Clare Marino on Unsplash
but it hurts
ouch
I breathe in discomfort
ouch
my muscles ache
but first
and more
all the apparatus deep inside
it is
sickness
it is infection
there might be solutions coming
clc
(sorry, it’s what I’m dealing with right now; I write as I can and read very little, sorry again)
photo by National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases on Unsplash
the formation of the blues
blue
green lights
that indicate the coffeemaker’s
waiting
where am I
debating bittersweet
maybe bitter like the smell
of mildew
or of certain herbs
sweet
as chocolate or
plain sugar from the bag
in consideration of the snack my
mother got
now and then
of
a sandwich with butter and sugar from
a sack
in the house
on the farm
the kind with after-rain
and the wheelbarrow that so much
depends
on
while the mother of my mother worked
in
a field
and that’s the lonely photograph
with very little spoken
for the story
to us
in the suburbs
where we could have learned
more than
minimal
of
hardship
c l couch
photo by Steve Busch on Unsplash
a kind of reference to “The Red Wheelbarrow” by William Carlos Williams
ripe mildew and mold
how to clean the room of these
requires owned know-how
c l couch
photo by roland deason on Unsplash
rings of Earth
rings
of Earth
e pur si muove
like Saturn
but they’re
us
and how we
move
in
through each other
and
the systems of alignment
and against the
wrong
with
rebellion
Robin
whose name
by
the way is genderless
and whose forest by translation
could be
could be anywhere
as
any satellite
whose orbit might be
rings
of
Earth then anywhere
c l couch
photo by Aluminum Disemboweler3000 on Unsplash
after Nagasaki
we had learned to bomb
the world
war ended by avatar
of I am death to
cite
and
secularly
to benedict
by us
to bless an industry
of
products that should never
be employed
and so
inutility
as the market must stay glutted
with inventory unused
by
desperate hope
bad for business
bad
for sickness
bad for all the death
from
skin softened from bone
all senses blinded
and
then
a memorial to haunting pain
the ghosts of one by one
and of
the nations
we could claim ignorance
we did not know
or
appreciate the scale
we only wanted victory
a conclusion
if
at a cost
of febrile Earth
c l couch
photo by Sajan Rajbahak on Unsplash
player-manager
(sequel to yesterday’s)
if demons can get in
then angels
must
their being two sets of choices
of
the same
which leaves the ministry of saints
on which to
suppose
and yet
angels in our thoughts
waiting
like service in the outfield
and
aren’t we the luckiest alive
by
baseball
some would say an angel game
requiring grace
with
lots of space
for spirit-lives to play
while
angel-thoughts might not go ‘round
the bases though there’s
strategy
at
bat and in the field
isn’t there
then
angels and demons could play
to work out the apocalypse
not
that they will
the way
in the northwest
or
southwest
depending
a border dispute was worked out
Canada with USA
by
the score after nine innings
and
as Thurber says
you could look it
up
c l couch
(sorry, angels got me thinking about baseball, maybe because of the movies
and my dad, from Olympia, told the story about the local/international border dispute that was decided by a baseball game)
photo by Ryan Arnst on Unsplash
clcouch123 
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