Braden Coucher

Rookie (December 10,1986 / Portland Oregon)

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With a background in farming, travel and theater, I try to blur the lines between fiction and nonfiction with an ever present emphasis on the ephemeral. Some photographs are more like encyclopedias and others like theater. Poems are the same. Each poem should be an intangible pinpoint hovering just between space, time and stuck in the muck of humanity and nature. more »

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Best Poem of Braden Coucher

Sea Lions

Half gone in memories of banjos and whiskey bottles
I flapped the wings of debauchery in the wind
of a sandy summer stained storm: There! I loved her,
She with feathery voice and small lovely head, I loved her
differently as snake to salamander.
I remember long banging, smashing nights,
in the streets when all the sound was just storm and
movements only a flickering, shape-shifting breeze.
I’d Torn into the poet’s craft like a drunken farmer into his disobedient wife,
I grabbed the words and mangled their sounds: speech
becoming clay becoming rock and then ...

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