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

               He Took a Photograph of a Forbidden Number!


                     “Tear him to pieces; he is a conspirator!”

                       -First Plebeian, Julius Caesar III.iii.28


Can I avoid death threats if I simply say
I wish Mr. Trump would go away
To a luxurious golf course there to play
And peace on him may we safely pray

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

                                                         Ghosted

In the half-light before dawn I checked the mail
I don’t know why; maybe I was awaiting some truth
When shimmering on the MePhone’s sleep-obscured page
A message from a friend long dead appeared

He made a joke about the January moon
And mentioned a book he had begun to read
He asked about my slow progress through a book since misplace
And chided me for not keeping up with him

I want to find that book
Because on some happy morning beyond time
                                     he will ask me about it

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

               One Shouldn’t Complain – But I’m Going to Complain


           It will not bother me in the hour of death to reflect that I have
           been “had for a sucker”…but it would be a torment to know
           that (I) had refused even one person in need.

                               -C. S. Lewis, Letters to an American Lady


Do you sometimes feel that you are on call
Twenty-five hours a day, on days you don’t even have
For all the needs and moods and whims and wants
Of clingy people who disapprove of you anyway?

When you come in from work, someone needs a ride
When you wake up at dawn, someone’s battery is dead
Someone needs a ten – could you make it a twenty?
And say, could you take my kid to school today?

For you The Golden Rule is a golden letter -
Still, everyone agrees, you could have helped them better

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

                                      The Evil of Banality

                       As Hannah Arendt did not exactly say

Handcuffs with their metallic efficiency
Leather-holstered on polished *****-belts
Distinguish more a grab with their subtle cachet
Than low-Prole zip ties in disposable bags

The wrists of citizens handcuffed without warrants
By an official wrist encircled with
The gift of a Rolex from Mister Big
Who will never countenance the arrest of his sons

Handcuffs should click as tastefully, you see
As the door of an unmarked SUV

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

                        Sherri’s Husband’s Grandfather’s Sandwich

                                     Memories of Our Grandfathers

                                  With gratitude to Sherri Woodman

A sandwich all wrapped up for a fishing trip
That was never taken, a receipt for a hat
From a clothing store closed long ago
His pocket knife, a note, some coins, some keys

His driving license due for renewal next month
The Hemingway book you gave him for Christmas
His typewriter (“They don’t make ‘em like that anymore”)
An unfinished fishing fly still in the vise

A paper bag of his little odds and ends
And each a happy memory that never ends

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

                               Tea: A Ceremony of Civilisation


               "Would you like an adventure, or would you like
               to have your tea first?"

                                                     -Peter Pan


England

Tea! Glorious cups of tea! For you and me!
Tea from the ***, strong and wonderfully hot!
Sandwiches with ham, butter and toast and jam
And before the washing-up, another cup!

China

Tea. Meditative tea, a thoughtful sea
Tea softly, softly brewed, a gentle mood
An invocation lifted, philosophy sifted
A liturgy free of any urgency

South of the 49th parallel

Gimme that jug off the grocery store shelf
I ain’t got no time to brew it myself

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

                     Standards Must be Maintained. Harrumph.

Anyone who drinks tea from a gallon jug
Purchased at some sort of shop for plebeians
Is definitely Of The People, and not to be trusted
Give him a coin and send him on his way