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
alternative adventures
in dreams
and in
daylight
they fought by
dancing
the border dispute was handled
through baseball
I’ve heard
about
chess diplomacy
as well
does anything get settled by a war
with metal missiles
packed with gelatinous
geared
closed-circuit
destruction
is anything accomplished
save
assurance of another
war
staving off the final one
when afterward
all creatures
all things on Earth
are rendered atomized
and silent
in that way
peace without dimensions for
a grave
and so the horrors of these
stalling actions
for a war
having gone through the world twice
and happening
in
victimizing places
now
c l couch
photo by Laura Fuhrman on Unsplash
(x = space)
x
x
Homers
x
A brother gone
Another brother going
Like homers from the park
What’s on the other side
Of the stadium,
We wonder
Though we know
The town outside
The city of disorganized noise
With the ritual
Inside the designed
Space
With bases and a plate
Clean lines
Maintained swarths of green
This is what we know
x
On the other side
Is chaos
And unknown
There are streets in heaven
There might be traffic patterns
Something to guide
The hit,
The sail home
x
C L Couch
x
x
Photo by Andrew Jephson on Unsplash
x
We Can Settle War This Way
(if politicians aren’t allowed to play)
I like baseball
It should be the sport
Of queens and kings
There is some contact
Though most it’s between the ball and the glove
And with the glove, the players
On the mound, at home plate, on the bases,
In the field
It is a game of grace
And you need no education for it
I’m all for school
But sometimes degrees are shams
In baseball, we don’t care
We don’t care who you are
Or where you’re from
Our adversaries often make great players
Ballet with bats and balls and hats
And gloves and, when at bat, a helmet
Nine innings to wait through
For excitement
But there is popcorn
Yes and beer
The seventh-inning stretch
And then the moments
Of foreverness
In a hit, a catch, a run
Safe or out
Games that in the sun or under artificial lights
They last
C L Couch
Photo by Rachel Barkdoll on Unsplash
Slow Pitch
Today is a day for slow pitches
An easy game of baseball
In the backyard
I don’t know what Englanders
Play in the backyard
Catch, I suppose
Can one practice cricket?
We used to play croquet
My father had to win every game
We learned to play it hard
Hard croquet, now that’s a laugh
A tempest in a teapot
But it set a pattern
Slow pitches, please
It’s Monday, and I’m tired
I left my glove back in the ‘60s
I want to play, I really do
Don’t leave in the bunker
Don’t pick me last, which is
Not a pick at all
Maybe I’ll stay on the porch today
Let someone else have the backyard
C L Couch
H is for History
History is not experience
But a record of what happened
My father liked to tell stories
Of growing up along Puget
Sound, which he swam across
Part of with regularity
Well, it seems that a border
Dispute arose between folks
In Seattle (probably Olympia,
State capital and southerly
Sound-located) and those in
Vancouver and of all the parts
On both sides—
A conflict of two nations, as
It were, Canada and the USA
One day the problem was
Resolved in a game of baseball
The border was settled over
Nine-innings’ play
I don’t recall who won; maybe
I was never told—that’s not
The point—the day was saved
Not with guns but by a game,
Sporting in every way
My father’s storytelling was
History—and is—a recording
Of the time and what transpired
My telling this to you becomes
A history as well
How about making a history
For yours
clcouch123 
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