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Précis for Aurora

(x = space)

x

x

Précis for Aurora

x

It’s winter

And it’s likable

Because

It’s cold outside

But there isn’t snow

Or ice or slush

Or such upon

The ground;

My car is clear

Should I need it,

And the sun is rising

Making the branches

Look like

Black arms with points

Reaching out,

Beseeching something

And I’m sorry

But I don’t know what

x

What does nature need

But to exist

And have oxygen and room

For existence

And some growth?

We could help

Or get in the way;

We conquer nature

So we think

To have our grand

Plans realized

For things above,

Below

The water table

Or some other

Primordial impediment

x

Do we cooperate

I wonder,

Ever:

Do we like our trees

And clouds

And ground and stones

And deeper things

Or

Are they only things

In the way?

x

We have a dominion

Theory,

Saying that

We are in charge

Of all of it

The flora and the fauna

And everything

That doesn’t move

Until cracks in the ground

Or volcanos

Dictate; I’m not sure

How our commission goes

Should we be

Evaluated—what kind

Of grade would

Watching angels

Grant us?

x

I say all this

Because it’s early

And the trees along

The street

Must manage with

Vehicular traffic;

The cars and trucks

Are noisy

While the trees

Are quiet (no wind

to show a

protest, either)

x

I wish you well today

And us

Us together,

Since the CO-2 and

O-2 arrangement

Keeps us going

And we are ruining

The Amazon

And I don’t know

How we’re doing

On Main Street

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Renting C on Unsplash

x

(I actually do live on Main Street; maybe you do, too)

x

2

Honestly

(x = space)

x

x

Honestly

x

O God

You are so good

I say this when the sun is out

Will I say it

In the storm

When I am losing everything I’ve had

Maybe a person

x

While my people are shattered

Or even when the sun

Comes out

After

x

I won’t believe the sun

May I believe you

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Wes Hicks on Unsplash

x

1

A Kindness

(x = space)

x

x

A Kindness

(Rosa Parks)

x

Because she was tired

And had enough

Of being tired

And the bus was not a charter

It was public transportation

She paid her money

Not a special fee

There was a seat

And she was tired

And had had enough

Of being tired

x

The kind of pain

Inside and out

And all she wants to do

It have it

Live it

Normally

The way

Anyone might bear

The pain

Of living

x

Though especially

The colored people

Colored brown

And paying for it

Without payment

In a place they did not sail to

Like Europeans

Who told the stories

Of their difficulties

Forgetting

(looking away)

About the holds beneath

In which the colored people

Had been pushed

And chained

And many of them

Died

On a journey of abduction

x

Can you imagine

Starting out this way?

This is their legacy

So let her have the vinyl seat

That she had rented

For a while

x

Let her have the whole bus

A fleet of buses

Let the people ride for free

And charge admission

For the lighter folk,

Which might began

To pay her back

And all her people

Who had the worse luck

Like the Indians

Already living here

x

Everyone with un-pale skin

Who met the Europeans

x

Not me

I wasn’t there

The rejoinder

Fair enough

But you’re here now

We’re here

We’re all here

Now

With small choices

And enormous ones

For how to live a country

Filled with all the colors

Hearts

And minds

And souls

x

You know,

Sometimes we stand

To let the lady sit

Or someone older

Someone bearing burdens

Or simply to be kind

Call it

Chivalry aside,

We can live this way

Kindly and civilly

Again

And for the first time

x

Might bring peace

(yes, there will be disgruntled)

On the bus

At the doorways

Going in

And going out

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Peter Orsel on Unsplash

Intersection in the Middle of the Desert

x

4

Invitation to a Wake

(x = space)

x

x

Invitation to a Wake

(with a toast)

x

We invite ourselves to

A meeting of ourselves

To celebrate a life

No longer with us

With all the possibilities

Frustrated to resolve

This side of things

And we can’t drink ourselves

Into oblivion

Because oblivion has form

And so frustrates annihilation

Of our senses

Besides, we want

To remember

And with gratitude

Share memories,

Enumerate mortality

Until the count and everything

That counts

Is ready on both sides

x

To one or those no longer

But an absence,

Here are drinks

(one of these

per one of us)

To aid sensation that

We hope will aid selection

Of desired sun-and-shade

Remembrances

Of memory

To tell

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Jen Theodore on Unsplash

x

2

Live from Punxsutawney

(x = space)

x

x

Live from Punxsutawney

x

Knob

Hollow

Gobbler

Turkey

Groundhog

Burrow

A manufactured life

Goes on tour

Speaking engagements

What is its thesis?

Moved in a cylinder

Men in hats

With groundhog faces

Thousands and thousands

I guess they have

Places to stay

TV, computer cameras

How it can it not

See its shadow?

Phil is not that accurate

Need we wonder

Why

Enjoy the day

Laughter

Celebration

Into spring

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Ralph Katieb on Unsplash

Groundhog didn’t like the late April snow (she was in the middle of nest building when it hit).

x

6

Till We Have Faces

(x = space)

x

x

Till We Have Faces

x

Black History Month begins

Black experience

Recorded

Call it Black experience month

Black testimony

Black story

x

Till

Evers

Amistad

Empires in Africa

Black and white

Greedy

Murderous

Raid

Take

Transport

Sell

And so begins a nation

You may say that others did it, too

So what

So fucking what

x

We have a month to cringe

A month to listen

Get it right

Fix something small

Fix something huge

Enormous

Like a nation

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Joshua J. Cotten on Unsplash

HDR shot of a sunset over downtown Memphis with the pyramid and bridge.

Memphis, TN, USA

x

0

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

Pointers

(x = space)

x

x

(x = space)

x

x

Pointers

x

What shall we say

That life goes on?

It does

Life goes on

As we say a lot

Without the import

x

Better over there

That is the promise

There are hints over here

Should we see them

Should we not

Or choose not

They are there, anyway

x

Funny thing

About the faith

Almost in anything—

Nothing is presumed

By our believing

If it’s big

And good

If it’s small

And good

It is there, anyway

x

Our choice does not affect

Its existence

Or its offering

Nature still spirals everywhere

And persists

In mysteries of hexagons

x

Nature does not predicate

Or faith in that

From that

Or anything

Or ask for

Our predication,

Either

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Kevin Bergen on Unsplash

x

0

Five in Five

(x = space)

x

x

Five in Five

(memoriam)

x

Out, out, brief candle! but

A candle isn’t brief

That’s on us for

A metaphor

Sometimes a real one, I guess

Sometimes the candles

In the church

Are pretty short

And thus available

For show

x

But the candle length

Is years,

I guess we know

Three score and ten

In made-up inches

Or in centimeters

Or real ones

(as in church)

To illustrate

x

You see, they are ubiquitous

Both real and imagined

x

The length may vary

By abstraction

Fate

I guess

And relativity

Macbeth’s flame is undone

Too soon by happy counting,

Not as an end

To tyranny,

His tragedy of making

x

But this is not a nation

Or a clan

Though Scots be in it,

Great text

Or a metaphor

(sorry to mention

then dismantle)

Simply a life

As it was

And as it’s gone

Always

Every hour I think on it

Too soon

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Rob Wicks on Unsplash

x

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