Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                          I Had a Flat Tire Along the Silk Road

A bandit-princess stole my trail-lost heart
To play with carelessly one idle day
She teased me a road sketched on her magic chart
But I had a flat tire along the way

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                                       The White Lady of the Well

She visits at dusk
She’s watching you;
                                      turn around -
She’s just over there

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                 We Have all Written Poems about September


         (Not applicable on that half the planet where September
                                          is a springtime month)

                              (Certain taxes and fees might apply)

                                   (Offer void where prohibited)

                                      (Some assembly required)


Everyone writes poetry about September
The cooling of the summer-sun-beaten earth
A few more hummingbirds with maps of Mexico
A first leaf skittering across the grassy lane

The sky looks a little different somehow
A fresh breeze rises with the gentle dawn
Sitting outside at dusk is comfortable now
Notebook and pen are easier to the hand

Everyone writes poetry about September
As every worker and dreamer ought to do

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com


            Tropes, Dopes, Middle-Earth, and Culture Worriers

          I am not clear as to what you intend by arisch. I am not of
          Aryan extraction: that is Indo-Iranian; as far as I am aware
          none of my ancestors spoke Hindustani, Persian, Gypsy, or
          any related dialects. But if I am to understand that you are
          enquiring whether I am of Jewish origin, I can only reply that I
          regret that I appear to have no ancestors of that gifted people.

      -Tolkien, from a letter rebuking a German publisher, 1938


One does not imagine Tolkien schlubbing about
In a garish cartoon tee and baggy shorts
A Glock strapped to his 50-inch waist
Shopping the dollar store in a Trumpy cap

One does not imagine Lewis following QAnon
Encouraging Peter to take an AR to Latin class
Or quartering the Cross of good Saint George
With a *******’s spidering wheel of shame

Not all evil comes from outside the Shire –
Sometimes evil is our own internal desire



On the time J.R.R. Tolkien refused to work with ****-leaning publishers. ‹ Literary Hub (lithub.com)

Why does Lord of the Rings appeal to the radical right? – The Irish Times

Behind the Catholic Right’s Celebrity-Conversion Industrial Complex | Vanity Fair

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                                   For English Pick Up the Anglophone

For English pick up the Anglophone
For French the Francophone
For others in Canada the Allophone
(“‘Allo! ‘Allo!”)
For Mandarin or Cantonese the Sinophone
For Portugal the Lusophone
In Deutschland perhaps the Deutschesphone
(or perhaps not)
And in Russia the Russophone

Please phone in, everyone

Because isn’t it wonderful -
So many phones, and each with a direct line to God

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                             Li Po Writes to us from his Mountain

                                      Li Po, “Ancient Air,” p. 84
                    A Book of Luminous Things, ed. Czeslaw Milosz

We read of the poets of China
In the days of the Golden Tang
In the time of The Gathering of Kings
When The Silk Road carried dreams

Government officials were the poets
And poets were the government officials
Who knew The Five Classics by heart
And wrote of China in Tang quatrains

They were writing to the Emperor
And now they are writing to us

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                                For ******-Dog of Happy Memory

                                    and for his pet human Max

          The one absolutely unselfish friend that man can have in this
          selfish world, the one that never deserts him, the one that
          never proves ungrateful or treacherous, is his dog.

                                     -George Graham Vest

His fuzzy little bed is empty today
His dinner is untasted, his water bowl full
Awaiting his ungentlemanly slurps
And his favorite toy seems lonely and lost

He will not claim space on my pillow tonight
Nor chase dream rabbits while cuddling with me
Nor lick my nose to wake me up at…
(Geez, ******, do you know what time it is!)
Leaping and barking to be allowed outside

He will not bound into the kitchen at dawn
Happily barking his joy unto God
Circling and snuffling for his breakfast treat
A bit of bacon or egg from a loving hand

Because his brave little soul has flown
To wait for me at the foot of that glorious Throne