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

                                 Blueberries Ripening in Love

A blueberry bush
Clusters of little blue orbs
Maybe tomorrow?

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

                   “I am Going to Call for a Major Investigation…”

                             -Our Red Queen on Truth [sic] Social


In Wonderland a new oppressive conjuration -  
His name is Major Investigation
Sent at our screaming queen’s instigation
To drag us all down to her police station

Beginning with Kamala, Oprah, and Bono
For somewhat disapproving of him – oh, no!
The Major will punish their laissez-majesto -
In the name of freedom their heads must go!

(But of course the irony in all this biz
Is that their heads are even larger than his)

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

                                                Stop Running

                                                   1 Kings 19

Stop searching. Hold still
Rest now under the broom tree
And He will find you

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

                       If It’s On The InterGossip It Must Be True

At all costs much the gift that keeps on giving much now let’s see there was this little German man with the moustache now what was his name oh yeah much oh wait much breaks cover much everyone is saying jaw-dropping much I’m a professional this is what you need to know much what REALLY happened much is strong in this one much game changer much secret **** gold train found much Amelia Earhart found much Jimmy Hoffa’s false teeth found much Gilligan’s Island is a secret Chinese army base much Elvis’ secret diary found much Marilyn Monroe and Walt Disney’s secret affair much the secret cure doctors don’t want you to know much apocalyptic glamour much chilling much shock scandal much stuns Wall Street much iconic much absolutely shocked trans nepo baby much dictator’s playbook much outrage fake alarm shock bombshell worst dressed much Meghan & Harry much packs on the PDA hellhole much gender reveal steamy toned abs much breaks silence much oh wait much firebrand much game changer there I fixed it for you much *** meet kettle much stay in your lane much across the pond much lives rent-free in his head much potentially much just sayin’ much? powder keg much ticking time bomb much cue the whatever in 3…2…1…much iconic much biblical proportions much LOL much books banned from the Bible rediscovered much secrets of Alcatraz rediscovered much Russia’s amber room rediscovered much ***! much ptsd much jaw dropping jaw dropping jaw dropping jaw dropping jaw dropping much much much

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

                                  Bring Me the Head of Peter Rabbit

My little dog has gotten into the habit
Of dining at dusk on delicious rabbit

Last night she blitzed past me as I opened the door
And left me a gift on the bedroom floor

I blinked when I saw at the foot of the bed
With its eyes still open – a poor rabbit’s head

Luna-Dog looked up and pawed at my knee
As if to ask, “Aren’t you proud of me?”

I reminded her gently (no need to fume)
That we take our meals the dining room

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

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

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

                        My Bestest Friend in the Whole First Grade


                                            For Rodney Joe Webb
                                               of happy memory


Our fathers’ farms were across the road from each other
We rode the big yaller feller to school
After the morning milking: Run! Run! We’ll be late!
And back again for the evening milking

We knew all sorts of stuff about battleships
And that Roy Rogers was better than Gene Autry
Chevy or Ford, and America could never be licked
Robin Hood and the biggest fish in the pond

The farms are long gone, and the fields of hay –
I went to his visitation today

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

                                                         ­   Merch

What, then, is merch? Tchotchkes and souvenirs?
Gift shop gimcrackery from a day at the beach
An airport tee on the way home from London
A Canadian flag stamped on a made-in-China cup?

No

Merch is now the livery of submission:
Politicians selling you your own souls
Entertainers fondling your credit cards
If you give them money they will be your friends

Don’t follow them; for you are good and true -
Wear, read, think, sing, and honor the nobility in you

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

                                   Haircut Appointment with Connie

The year’s at the spring,
And day ’s at the morn;
0400 with thunderstorms
The fields are dew-pearl'd;
Scotty-the-cop makes his traffic busts
And Connie her usual fuss
God ’s in His heaven—
All ’s right with the world!

                                -as Robert Browning did not say

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

                                      Spectrum Cable 4

                                       For 1 May 2025

Spectrum is usually more dead than alive –
O! For a newspaper at the foot of the drive!

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

                                 Springtime’s Laughing Rhymes

A Merry Little Breeze, an allergen sneeze
Happy little children among the bees

The always fresh challenge to rhyme with moon
Perhaps noon? Spoon? Croon? Loon? Swoon? Bare feet?

Bare feet?

Bare feet! How neat! A grassy-tickly treat!

And Mama calls out, “Now where are your shoes?”

“Oh, we left them in church on the back-row pews!”

“Just wait ‘til I tell your father that news!”

(Giggling)

“And where are your socks?”
“Inside with the clocks!”

“That makes no sense!”
“Gimme three pence!”

A Merry Little Breeze, an allergen sneeze
And beneath the trees a little world at ease




[Merry Little Breezes – cf. Thornton W. Burgess’ Mother West Wind stories]

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

                      “WHAT IS THIS MAN DOING HERE!?”


           “We are not permitted to choose the frame of our destiny.
            But what we put into it is ours.”

                       -Dag Hammarskjold, Markings, p. 55


Major Hochstetter often bellows this question
Echoing Pharoah and Pilate, and Plato too
Your barber, an x-ray technician long ago
A couple of sack boys at the supermarket

What are any of us doing here?

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

     Strange Lights, Strange Sounds, and Would You Like a Coffee?

In hospital one encounters strange lights
Strange sounds, visions – What is this all about?
Radioisotopes floating around in one’s veins
Dizzies, buzzies, shortness of breath, coughs, sighs

Reality tilts on an axis that isn’t there
Illuminations flash by at unwarped speed
Grey slabs curiously marked maneuver awfully close
Why does machinery slide overhead?

And a kindly voice says, “It’s okay. You’re doing fine”
And then those most welcome words: “Would you like a coffee?”

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

                                   The Compensatory Manosphere

                                  For our cabinet-room commandos

They are loud with their manly talk of war
Scripted by John Wayne, chopped-salad cliches
Rat-tat-tatting like studio machine guns
On the Flanders’ fields of grade-school recess

They never heaved a buddy’s chopped remains
Into a dust-off barely touching the ground
Rotors screaming, wounded screaming, blood
Instead, they polish their torpedoes and CVs

“Signal ‘Charge!’”

Is their computer keyboard battle cry
Their wives listening in as young soldiers die

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

        The People’s Liberation Army Has No Veto Over Christmas


“The Halloween and Costume Association warned that tariffs are threatening to ‘wipe out Halloween and severely disrupt Christmas unless urgent action is taken.’"

                                          -Axios.com, 26 April 2025


God’s wisdom-speakers from the sunrise East
Mysterious messengers in free service to Truth
To Bethlehem, where the world is to be renewed
Come bearing gifts without the comrades’ permission

[The formatting was mangled in the transfer.]

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

                               "Your Changes Have Been Saved"

Noticed the passive voice
          the passive voice is to be noticed

You did not make changes changes were not made by you
        but changes were made

You did not save changes changes were not saved by you
         but changes were saved

If you were relevant you might have been consulted

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

                             After the Passing of the Bishop of Rome

                                The first task of a bishop is to pray.


                          -Pope Francis, The closeness of bishops
                                    (20 September 2019) | Francis


I think I’m the only Catholic in all of Christendom
Who is not giving the Holy Spirit instructions
On whom to choose for the next Bishop of Rome
And, shut my mouth, I mean to keep it that way

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

                                    Not Waiting for Godot

We pass much of our lives in waiting for things

Airplanes
Love
Christmas
Jobs
Answers
Mail
Spectrum Cable
You

Mostly, though, we wait for packages from Amazon
Maybe this time there will be happiness

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

                                         Spectrum Cable 3

                                          For 24 April 2025

Spectrum stops working at the fall of a leaf
Such fragility! It beggars belief.

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

                                               Spectrum Cable 2

                                                For 23 April 2025


Spectrum Notification Alerts: Welcome. Msg frequence based on account activity.  Text STOP to stop. Msg & data rates may apply.

Spectrum Service Alert: There is a service outage affecting you. Restoration estimated by 11:30 P.M. We apologize for the inconvenience.


It’s got its quirks; it jerks and twerks
And once in a while it sort of works

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

                              What Do Little ‘Possums Dream Of?

My resident ‘possum was curled up cozily
Deep down in a stump over by the fence
Asleep, and like a little dog or cat
A-twitching happily in his ‘possum dreams

Of dung-beetles and corpses of dead birds
Dog food left carelessly outside overnight
Whatever awful offal the cat yakked up -
A buffet of delicacies for well-brought-up marsupials

Crawly-bugs and poops and snails and rattlesnake tails
Those surely are what little ‘possums dream of

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

                          CBS Remembers the Bishop of Rome

They took Norah O’Donnell down from the shelf
To make the death of Pope Francis all about herself

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

                Did Anyone Think to Roll the Stone Back into Place?

Easter Monday

Did cemetery management offer a refund?
(High quality burials don’t come cheap, you know)
And what happened to the guards posted to that tomb?
Probably a disciplinary write-up

Easter Tuesday

Upper Room Inc. sent a bill for a missing Cup
(We can’t have people pinching stuff, okay?)
At least it wasn’t a fraternity party
And the taxes these days; you wouldn’t believe!

Easter Wednesday

This stuff about miracles just makes me scoff
(Say, boss, can I have this next Sunday off?)

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

                                     The Nunc Dimittis in Two Parts


I. Simeon

A young man wouldn’t get it
Which is one of the reasons why
In humility he hears
The Bible all his life


II. Anna

A young man wouldn’t get it
Because he doesn’t hear
The humility all around
He talks instead of listens

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

                             The Silences of Holy Saturday

The world - it seems to hold its breath today
Low and stilly hang the heavy clouds
Even the birds don’t seem to know their way
They wing in silence – and where are yesterday’s crowds?

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

                               A New Medication and its Cautions

One of the side-effects of my new med is death
Along with garbled speech and all the reth
Right here on this enclosure; that’s what it saith -
And when I read of death I lost my breath!

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

                  Together We Have All Suffered Nights on Weathertop

                                         Gratitude for Friends

We have suffered nights on Weathertop
Made a perimeter against bleak despair
Surrounded in the dark by yet more dark
Chilling us, choking us in miasms of fear

Shhhhh, shhhh – out there – THEY are here – they are HERE!
Confusion and terror, a poisonous blade
Hissings and terror, and deep-fouled temptations
And afterward through the years a deep-fouled pain

Each of us suffers a wound that never mends -
But by the grace of Elbereth we are all stout friends

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

                 A Reformation Wheeze – No Smoking, Please!

Should Catholics grow nervous if invited to
A good old-fashioned Smithfield barbecue?




NB: In the USA Smithfield Foods is a highly regarded purveyor of foodstuffs, most notably pork.

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

                         When We Re-Read Our Childhood Books

When we re-read our childhood books, we are
Children again, barefoot children, we are
Roaming Sherwood with Robin Hood, we are
Standing watch on the Hispaniola, we are

Stalking deer in the forest primeval, we are
Walking with Aslan in Narnia, we are
Studying with Anne in Avonlea, we are
Coursing stars with Podkayne of Mars, we are

Dancing with princes and princesses, we are
Because when we re-read our childhood books

We are

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

                        “Ladies…or Should I say Astronauts…”

                                         -as heard on the CBC

Shriek! Cackle! Giggle! Omigod! Ohmigoddess! Omigod! Omigod! I can’t believe what I’m seeing! Omigod! Omigoddess! Shriek! Cackle! Omigod! Omigod! Giggle! Omigod! I can’t believe what I’m seeing! Giggle! Omigod! Shriek! Cackle! Omigod! Omigod! That’s our pink moon! Omigod! I can’t believe what I’m seeing! Ohmigoddess! Giggle! Shriek! Cackle! Omigod! Omigod! Omigoddess! I can’t believe what I’m seeing! Shriek! Cackle! Omigodess! Omigod! Omigod! I can’t believe what I’m seeing! Shriek! Cackle! Giggle! Omigod! Omigod! Omigod! I can’t believe what I’m seeing! Omigod! Shriek! Cackle! Omigoddess! Omigod! Omigod! Giggle! Omigod! I can’t believe what I’m seeing! Giggle! Omigod! Shriek! Cackle! Omigod! Omigod! Omigod! I can’t believe what I’m seeing! Giggle! Shriek! Cackle! Omigod! Omigodess! Omigod! I can’t believe what I’m seeing! Shriek! Cackle! Omigod! Omigod! Omigoddess! I can’t believe what I’m seeing!

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

                              A Roadside Snapping Turtle in April

If you’d spent the winter
Sleeping deep down in the mud
You’d be snappish too!

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

                                                   God’s Wounds

                                     Sumy, Ukraine, Palm Sunday 2025

Ukraine wanted to welcome Jesus today
To welcome Him with the branches of willows
As is their custom on Palm Sunday, for they have no palms
But this holy day brought them Putin and bombs

Little children wanted to welcome Jesus today
They died with willows in their tiny hands
Burning in the wreckage, in their Sunday best
Sirens and explosions, screams and blood

The faithful of Sumy wanted to welcome Jesus today
But what Putin has written he has written -
                                               he has written them away

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

                  Palm Sunday Processional and a Volkswagen

We’re along the four-lane, no village street
And so in the parking lot with our palms we meet
We begin our hymn at a Fiat, mama mia!
And step off from alongside my brother’s new Kia

I suppose we could sing, “O Cadillac, My Destiny”
While waving our fronds over a wingless Mercury
Watch your step; there’s a Honda Accord
Oh, look; I found a penny – praise the Lord!

We have only the four-lane, no village street
But at the church door we have Jesus to greet

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

                   Existentialism and Schrodinger’s Eyeglasses


                “…books and music and circling philosophies”

                                       -Mary Oliver, “Answers”


Not even the Pascaline could sort things out -
The whirlings and circlings of discrete stimuli
As when you are commanded, judged, rebuked
Rewarded, shamed, and praised, all at the same time

Where are the little wheels that could line them out
In order mechanical and neatly filed
Then catalogued by order of the mind
Ready for good service to God and man?

Not even the Pascaline could sort things out –
And has anyone seen my glasses about?

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

                                            I’ll Try Again Tomorrow

The day was sour, and so were my poor words
Poor words written against our ******* regime
Words so inadequate that I ripped them down
And pitched them into the compost of philosophy

There to decay properly and be rebuilt
To fling against armored limousines
And maybe rattle an oligarch or two
Who sneer at us as but their petting zoo

The day was sour, and so was my poor verse
Useless, counter-productive, and worse

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

                                     Some Poor Rhymes for Easter


            “There is a time for penance and a time for partridge.”

                                        -Saint Teresa of Avila


Processions and prayers among the cloisters
Weary pilgrims in their thread-bare habits
The faithful beading Aves and Pater Nosters -
Still,
There is much to be said for chocolate rabbits!

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

                               A Failure to Practice Caritas
                         for a Certain Fellow Human Being

                            "I have never wished a man dead,
           but I have read some obituaries with great pleasure."

                               -attributed to Mark Twain

When God's good time puts an end to that snake
And obsequies are read over that foul mistake
And the interment prayers are reverently spake
Oh, let us not forget the wooden stake