I talk you talk we'll talk





(Advent or anytime)


This is my country now

We brutalize the families

At the border

And the young who attack them

We can remember what

This did to us in Viet Nam

If we want to

The enemy had wrecked the families

First, and then we had

To finish its work

It was strategy

What is this?

What child is this?


For every war we cause with someone


We make it harder for the Christ child

Or any child

Any family

To come here


C L Couch




This photograph by @Reuters shows the United States of America firing tear gas at women and children.


Near-Dead Reckoning

Near-Dead Reckoning


If I had children

To rear (that used to be the proper

Word), I’ve little doubt

I’d treasure some time apart, now

And then

There’s a story of the mother of my



She was going to walk

Around the hundred-acre wood

Her son asked to go

And she said no

But when I return

Welcome me

As if I had been gone far

Away for a long time


Nowadays what guilt the mom or dad

Must feel to know

That children are taken from their

Parents with no returning



The parents now are criminals, they’ll say

Trying to enter by

Liberty’s calling


The children are caged, too


Everyone is guilty, by the way

Not one of us gets off

Unless we’re trying


God will accept a prayer

To bring entire families

Along with sanity

To what has been happening


My father’s people were

Here to tie

Up the ships of all the rest

My mother’s people, there’s a problem

Only a few generations here

So I’ll

Have to take my chances


Warming up to say

That without family

Without the value placed

Up on the shelf in pride of place


That what have we of home

A nation of all promises

Is dust collecting

In an empty place


I don’t have all the answers

I don’t know all the rest

But I think impracticality also

Becomes illicit

When we break the bond

That promises compound reckoning

The nuclei destroyed

Hostility left to orbit like

Errant electrons



And sing-songy

Yes, I know


But there it is, I’ll ‘fess up,

And if you’ve come this far

We can go farther


C L Couch (/jpg)


Border Talk

Border Talk


I don’t know what to say about

A family torn apart

I never had that feeling

Once I thought I’d lost part of my family in

A famous fire

I was hundreds of miles away

I cried for a day to find

It wasn’t true


C L Couch


H is for History

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

Create a free website or blog at

Up ↑