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Friday

The Listing House

(x = space)

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x

The Listing House

(have fun—it’s Friday)

x

They’re everywhere

I cannot tell

The open places anymore

For anytime I open something

Door or drawer

I encounter lists

And that’s all

Whenever I come across

The refrigerator handle

(now and then)

I pull and find inside

Only reminders on paper of

What I meant to buy

At the store

There is no desk

Or dresser drawer that’s safe

And sometime the house

Will lean over

Or sink in the center

To greet the ground more closely

Maybe to find what is

Beneath

I know, we have machines

But it’s been so much easier

To find a scrap and use the pen

I carry in my pocket

But here’s the thing:

I make the list

Then leave it behind

Think I will change,

I create then leave another

Now there is no space

For what I’d find

Should I consult the paper,

After all

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I think it all will

Weigh out in the middle

The house will fall like Usher’s

Into the tarn of Main Street

And hell for me

Will be an inferno

Constantly

Ignited from

The lists I made in life

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C L Couch

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Photo by Eniko Polgar on Unsplash

Bodie, United States

Desert Ghost Town

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Friday Felines

Friday Felines

 

I will see cat-friends tonight

They will ignore me

I’m not feeding them

They’ll act as if they do not play

Though I know it’s different

 

One friend

Erstwhile Pennsylvania Quaker

Might decide it’s time for

A first-floor chase

Or to jump on me, reach toward my

Ear as if to say

Quietly through sharpened teeth,

Feed me

 

C L Couch

 

 

Photo by Sam Lee on Unsplash

2 Chome-4-8 Daiba, Minato, Tokyo 135-0091, Japan

 

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Friday’s Children

Friday’s Children

 

It’s Friday

I should say something

About cats

And to be fair

Dogs

And if you have a rabbit

Pet your rabbit

Be careful ‘round the ears

Otherwise, I think they like it

 

Friday’s child is loving and giving

Cats, it’s true

Are a source of affection

And encouragement

Through seeming indifference

Dogs are obvious about it,

Aren’t they?

Sometimes that’s just what we need

Obvious affection

I’ve spent most of my life

Around both

Not both kinds of cats (though

that’s true)

But contrary cats

And thorough dogs

 

C L Couch

 

 

Image by Peter Morth from Pixabay

 

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And Does It Take a Sabbath Day

And Does It Take a Sabbath Day

 

And does it take a sabbath day

To have a larger thought

To encounter feeling that goes

‘Round the world

 

Maybe it does

Though the Lord knows

I can make my own

And, like entitlement, could call it

Anything I want

Though usually it’s Friday

Maybe Thursday

 

I used to retreat and rearranged the week

I’d go out on Thursday afternoon

Stay through the night

Often not sleeping, maybe by intent

My own dark night of the soul

Then I’d have Friday to go downstairs

To meet with the director

We’d talk of Francis and Gerald May

And would I train as he did

So far, I haven’t done so

 

All that has ended, as I guess it had to

Not because of miffed occasions

I’m not sure we ever had a one of those

But because mortality calls unevenly

And those of us are left

To fill in steps like pulling in

Loose lines on board we weren’t expecting

Never are

 

I must do now for me

Chaos, order

Void, abundance

I don’t arrange these very well

But they are big

Like large thoughts on a sabbath day

Friday or whenever

 

I must find my own way home

Find more company than this

Than these

Sensations, wishes, little more

Not to fill in emptiness

But something hale to

Place over the pain

Like a well-timed blanket

On a cold, cold winter day

 

When I couldn’t go out, anyway

To find the house above the creek

On made-up sabbath days

 

C L Couch

 

 

http://12footcwc.org/

 

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