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

                      Beowulf Presents Himself for a Job Interview


Their leader answered him, Beowulf unlocking
Words from deep in his breast:
                                        We are Geats.
Men who follow Higlac. My Father
Was a famous soldier, known far and wide…

                               -Beowulf, Burton Raffel translation

Nahhhhhhhhh. Scratch that. Manly language is, like, y’know, old school. Let’s

make it

come alive

for 2025:

Don’t you people know who I AM?! I am a highly motivated people person who enjoys challenging tired old conventions and sourcing creatively from a renewable multiplicity of supply chain resources and a multi-cultural, multi-lingual workforce nourished in a milieu of something or other no one is above the law jaw-dropping when I ax a former employee it’s with a real ax I like scented candles, long walks on the beach, meeting new people and killing them B.O.G.O iconic I’m beyond a people person tell me you’re a Democrat Republican Liberal without telling me you’re a Democrat Republican Liberal ***! transparency so like here are my pronouns Me. My. Mine. Warrior ethos only louder ‘cause I never even made the first day of recruit training Make Geatland Great Again Geatland for the Geats Geatland First no one understands my special needs Grendel and I have a complicated relationship which you wouldn’t understand Hrothgar Is Always Right until I disappear him and take over the chairmanship of Denmark how’d you like to have a funny name like Higlac and I’m proud to be a Geatlander my armor is by Hugo Boss my sandals by Ferragamo Learn. To. Code. cue an allusion to some metaphorical playbook in 3, 2, 1 my Big Beautiful branded Napa Valley wine from my podcast, Love ‘N’ Smackdowns from your Big Beautiful Beowulf shocking jaw-dropping mike drop of biblical proportions detail-oriented, self-motivated results-driven references available upon request team player fast-learning goal-oriented think outside the box track record go-to person win-win dynamic synergy going forward from this point in time servant leader proactive strategic thinker my secret for thinning hair dropped today weaponize crypto authentic empowered seeking closure chatgpt paved the way with the key that unlocks the future glass ceiling lawfair A.I.  like my body art?

Buy my book. Buy ads on my ‘blog. Buy my stuff.

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

                            Not Doggerel but Crowwerel

Blame it on LeighH and her delightful friends who celebrate crows:
Gray Wolf, Susie, Emily, Ink Empress, Princess of Heart, Anwar, Lioness, Sara, Dom, Damocles, and Mister Truth! I hope I have not forgotten anyone! 😊

Crows take over the trays of bird seed
I provide for all birds as a daily feed

Crows –

They glare at me
Disapprovingly!

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

   Sunday Morning in America: Jesus, Church Shootings, and I.C.E.

I hold the door open for people, and smile
A cheery greeting for all, so good to see you
Your beautiful children are growing up so fast!
           I scan the parking lot for men with guns

Who’s reading from the lectionary today?
The altar servers in their albs line up
Mrs. Busy wants to ask Father a queston
         I scan the parking lot for black SUVs

         I can lock the door against evil, which would be futile
For now I hold it open for you, and smile

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

                                     An Anteroom to Eternity?

                         (Nigdaw in Essex said it much better)

Waiting in the E.R.
More waiting in the E.R.
     The pain is back
Waiting in a corridor as people walk by
     and look at you
Waiting in another corridor, gasping hello to
     a curious, wide-eyed child
Someone gives you an injection
Waiting in yet another corridor
Pushed into a room
     "Oh, wait, it's not ready..."
Pushed back into a corridor
Wait…
The hours...the hours...


Note: my experience with health care professionals, from the nice young man who brings the meal trays to the great physicians, is uniformly wonderful and I am most grateful to them. The – THE – problem is the corporatism that now rules even nominally religious hospitals with the clawing, grasping hands and narrow minds of Scrooges. Administrators and stockholders will cut work hours and understaff units if only a poor dollar, rather than a poor human, is saved.

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

                                         Because They are Young

                               For Those Who Have Lost Children

The good die young, our blessed children, our hopes
Fresh to this world they wanted so much to explore
They wanted to explore everything – earth, air
Words, water, sky, ideas, music, art, love

All the joys of being; all Creation is their stupa
And they fly the eternal pradakshina
In fulfillment, enlightenment, and joy
Infinitely far, and yet still close to us

We are less because they have gone ahead
Along the happy pilgrimage of faith
But they are more, and they celebrate us too:
They love us and wait for us along the Way

The good die young, and because they are so good
We must strive to be worthy of them

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

                                      Where is Herod’s Father?

                 …lamentation, and weeping, and great mourning,
                 Rachel weeping for her children,
                 and would not be comforted,
                 because they are not.

                                   -Saint Matthew 2:16-18

The Herod of today squats alone in his room
Alone, devoid of parenting or purpose
Feverishly feeling sorry for himself
His only friend is his Precious, his glowing screen

(And where is his father?)

He scribbles screaming screeds and manifestos
And draws cool pictures of army guns ‘n’ stuff
Mommy lets him do whatever he wants
Maybe another weapon will calm him down

(But where is his father?)

He counts the children in the village school
He draws a floor plan of the village church
He clutches his he-man tough guy army gear
He sends his sulkings through the GossipNet

(Oh, where is his father?)

A naked AR fantasy hangs on his wall
He takes him down, he wants to ****** him
He feels, he doesn’t think, he feels, he feels –
Maybe Moloch wasn’t such a bad guy after all

(Now where is Herod’s father?)


Legal note: this is not an allusion to any specific instance of infanticide in this nation, but rather to the many causes of why in America hunting season on children is always open.

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

                    An Hour in Which Nothing Much Happened


                                 The country talked quiet;
                       one human voice could drown it out…

                                  Lonesome Dove, p. 26


No real mission; I just wanted a walk
Along the road, with work gloves and loppers in hand
Through the wavery heat on a late-summer day
To clear some windfall blocking much of the lane

Butterflies danced among bright yellow flowers
Mourning doves murmured in the underbrush
Wrens and buntings and sparrows up in the pines
A little snake wriggled for cover and shade

Their beauty and silence – those were their talk
No real mission; I just wanted a walk