Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                       60 Keys to Abject Horror


                            The man that hath no music in himself
                            Plays the harpsichord instead

                                   -as Shakespeare did not say


Of all musical instruments the most abhorred
Is the banging, clanging harpsichord

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                               II.  And There Was Smoke Indeed

                                    Leo XIV blessed us today

And there was smoke indeed, in clouds and waves
Great heaps of hopes and prayers and expectations
For now, perhaps unexamined petitions and prayers
So if we cheer for him today, will we ignore him tomorrow?

Let us not lay our contradictions upon him
Asking of him what we are not willing to give
Even a poor basket with some loaves and fish
Or a veil to wipe away the tears of suffering

Now blessed is the humble man who braves
That smoke as it roils in clouds and waves

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                        I. Watching for Smoke from Vatican Hill

                          On the Occasion of the Papal Conclave

Latins and Sabines may have watched for smoke
From the Vatican Hill across the way
Wondering if a careless shepherd had set a fire
Beyond the Seven Hills of holy Rome

We several tribes of nations still watch for smoke
From the Vatican Hill across our screens
Anticipating a careful, caring shepherd
And trusting the Holy Spirit to send us fire

Outside a happier palace, open to all lands
Where Saint Peter may better warm his hands

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                            Having Lost Our Way


                     Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heav’n

                                 -Satan in Paradise Lost I.263


Like Gollum we hug our ancient hatreds to ourselves
Clinging to every offense, real or perceived
Chanting with Macbeth’s witches as we stir
Each sullen resentment into the ***

We wish neither to forgive nor to be forgiven
A hand offered in friendship will be eaten
Faith is a bitcoin of unreality
And love is just an excuse for abuse

Like Gollum we hug our ancient hatreds to our deaths
Hissing vituperatives with our very last breaths

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                        Spectrum TV Takes Out the Main Water Line

For two days Spectrum to our surprise did fine
But today they ruptured the water line

(Can ya dig it?)

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                               A Toy Story by Donny Two Dolls

I want (while dressed up as a Pope; I’m wild)
To ration the toys you want to give your child

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                 Our ***** Minister for Culture

Our Leader, our dear, dear Leader, is a real pizz-***
He censors our movies and reopens Alcatraz