I talk you talk we'll talk



We Are X

We Are X


Dear God, what shall we do

With a new world?

Another planet

Or the realm of antimatter,

Once breached?

Huge or microscopic,

There is responsibility

Not to mention

An awareness come from something

Else, new denizens

To us

Of new worlds


We’ll make an impression

We’ll try to mask the greed

Maybe we will indeed

Send our best people

But everything we are beneath

Must surface

Might we change ourselves

(change ourselves)

In the moment of discovery?

Become better friends

Or enemies

Once someone else

Some entity of consciousness

Without doubt is known?


So supplication while we can

Please watch over all encounters

Keep our explorers safe

And when and how

The universe might need

To be kept safe from us


C L Couch



Photo by Michael Henry on Unsplash

Seljalandsfoss, Iceland


On the Agenda

On the Agenda


When all is gray

Not boring but not


Where do we go

A psalmist looks to the hills

The hills are not the source of strength

Though they look strong


Gratitude has no tone and is

Every shade

The day could be on fire, after all


The psalmist knows

But relief might come

Over the horizon

Or through cables, now

And satellites bouncing rays


To send the word, machine commands

Binary data for agenda-forming

Open or in hiding makes the difference


That’s a problem with gray

It’s hard to see,

Texture’s a challenge

Direction is unclear

But it could be a vacuum

Not only vacant but absconding

With material and hope


Help out with everything that’s left

Someone else’s day

Might be on fire


C L Couch



Photo by Greg Shield on Unsplash


Annie, How Do Lizards Leap?

Annie, How Do Lizards Leap?
(the answer might be, Very well)

Extra day
One day in four
We leap
With twelve lords
In British fancy-

Well, I guess we
All own the song
By now


So leap—that’s
Falling with intention
Yet toward an
Unknown landing

Don’t expect
To touch down
(This is living,
After all)
On cushions

C L Couch (Coussin)

Burying the Unknown Dead

Burying the Unknown Dead

A ministry, non-sectarian, in

Students from a private
From a private school

Attend to one, an unknown
Man, somewhere with a
Name but no one to claim
And care for his mortal

“But today we are his family,
We are here as his sons . . .”

Pallbearers, recitations of
Free and liturgical verse—
These youth provide all

To bear the body and,
Finally, kindly lay with
Loving intention into the
City’s yard and ground

In Boston, it’s a frozen
Day, yet there is some light

Because hope of all kinds
And times and mortal or
Immortal prophecies—

Hope blazes here

(reported at for
25 January, “Today We
Are . . .” by Arun Rath)

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