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

                                      The Seven Seeing-Stones

Good Tolkien writes of spring far better than we
With layered allusions to Celtic and Nordic myths
His Fairy Folk sing clearly in rainbow rhymes
Among the crocuses abloom ‘round ancient trees

My crocuses bloom ‘round a shaggy lawn
With garden furniture in need of paint
And morning coffee in a Tupperware cup
To serve as a greeting to the rising sun

Friend Tolkien writes of spring for you and me
And through his Seven Seeing-Stones – we see!
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

            Scriptural Textual Analysis Applied to Act II of Macbeth

                                The Book of Steve Jobs 43:13-16

“Oh, no, Mr. Hall!
It’s right here in the Bible!” she exclaimed
Standing up suddenly from her desk
Eagerly waving her MePhone aloft

And then she paused
Appeared to be slightly embarrassed
Laughed
Took a selfie

And laughed some more

As did we all

Happiness
The Bible on a MePhone
Feb 28 · 187
The Epstein List and You
Lawrence Hall Feb 28
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                              The List is Death

There is said to be a list – but whose?
Who wrote it? Where is it? Where has it been?
On what teakwood desk does it now repose
Around which names and lives are negotiated

The matter is not that names are being removed
But that your name might be written in
Because your attitude has been noticed
The hand that once shook yours signs away your life

Someone pencils your name upon The List
That’s your loyalty reward (you won’t be missed)

Thoughts ‘n’ prayers as in Two Corinthians
Feb 27 · 310
Go Away, Daily Mail
Lawrence Hall Feb 27
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                               The Daily Mail’s New Profits Plan

Go away, Daily Mail.  Go away, Daily Mail.
I’m not going to spend any money on you
I know that your clips are sweet
But my money clip is mine to keep
And my credit limit insists that I must be true

When you're demanding like this
You’re really easy to resist
Go away, Daily Mail
I won’t pay, Daily Mail
You’re just a clickbait away, Daily Mail
App delete, Daily Mail
I will not beg you to stay


Legal stuff about “Go Away, Little Girl,” a sweet, charming song:
Written by: Gerry Goffin, Carole King
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
U. K. Daily Mail
Lawrence Hall Feb 26
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                    The Destruct Sequence Has Been Activated


                   Upon the occasion of suddenly feeling old  
                   while sitting comfortably in a lawn chair
                   on a rare warm afternoon in February


The destruct sequence has been activated:
The photon torpedoes have all been fired
The memory software is badly outdated
The phaser comm panel cannot be re-wired

The main drive has stopped; the batteries are failing
The passageways are blocked with fallen debris
The controls on the bridge are uselessly flailing
The ship is listing slowly, degree by degree

Everything aboard ship is antiquated –
The destruct sequence has been activated
Life is good. Life is better with a dachshund and a cup of coffee.
Lawrence Hall Feb 25
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                             In Praise of Lester Holt, Journalist

His journalism is Ernest Hemingway
His plain and honest words are Robert Frost
His elegance is that of Patrick McGoohan
His America is that of Sevareid and Murrow

His purpose is that the news be accurate
His care for others is Angola-true
His courage is modest but as adamant as steel
His is the reassuring voice in any storm

His boots were stained on Afghanistan’s plain
His bosses’ alligator shoes are stained
                                     with the mark of Cain
Lawrence Hall Feb 24
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                  Their Candles are All Out


                            “…There’s husbandry in heaven;
                              Their candles are all out...”

                                              -Macbeth II.i.6-7


Good men will tend to see the good in all
When Banquo was aware of the starless night
He saw in that not a lack of light  
But rather the careful conservation of light

And so we see this night, this rainy night
Not as a time of cold and darkness and damp
But an occasion for hearth-gathering the family
For cards, chess, read-alouds, blankies, warmth, peace

Good men will tend to see the good in all
And good must then on all of us befall
Lawrence Hall Feb 23
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                    President Musk and His Five Bullet Points

I was a federal employee in Viet-Nam
(More than five bullets and mortar bombs)
No one in Washington demanded I document my day
Or offered to send me home early with eight months’ pay
federalemployees, presidentmusk, fivebulletpoints
Feb 23 · 162
The Church Garage Sale
Lawrence Hall Feb 23
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                      The Church Garage Sale

                  (Although the garage sale is in the parish hall
                                   because there is no garage)


A garage sale is a rebuke to us all -
The metaphysical finger having writ
Turns now from that lost Babylonian wall
And points as if to scribe in us this bit:

Why did you buy these masses of junk at all?
Lawrence Hall Feb 22
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

          The Self-Anointed King of America, Greenland, Panama,
          Gaza, Canada, Ukraine, and the Gulf of America Turns His
          Sallow Face to Rome


                     “Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!”

                                          -Macbeth II.iv.37


All of us must pass, but here’s the thing -
Who next will teach from St. Peter’s throne?
I am very much afraid that our warrior-king
Will anoint himself the Bishop of Rome
Lawrence Hall Feb 22
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                     Who is Your Greatest Hero?

Do you now, or have you ever…

Worked double shifts or double jobs to pay the bills
Read to your children instead of yelling at them
Had to jump-start your car in the pre-dawn cold
Jump-started your neighbor’s car in the pre-dawn cold

Do you now, or have you ever…

Done some hard time in the military
Served in the volunteer fire department
Attended divine services without making a fuss
Milked cows, chopped wood, raised a garden

Do you now, or have you ever…

Know which end of a hammer hits the nail
Built a home library for your children and yourself
Set a daily study schedule for developing your mind
Raised your children after your spouse bugged out

Do you now, or have you ever…

Gone to work early and stayed late at work
And did more than was expected of you
Taken your children on nature works
Volunteered at your local hospital

Of course you have

So who is my greatest hero?

                                                  You are
Lawrence Hall Feb 21
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                               You Were Dancing Up the Lane

In an old lawn chair I sat and dozed
And felt amber dusk sealing the day
Though I was weary and my eyes were half-closed
I heard you – you, whistling a romantic lay

You were skipping barefoot up the lane
Your skirt all a-dance for your heart’s desire
O Lady-Queen of our happy demesne
With flowers for me, your most devoted squire

I awoke, I blinked – I was all alone -
The sun had set on us, many years gone

But I saw you dancing up the lane…
Feb 20 · 95
Go Ask Your Father
Lawrence Hall Feb 20
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                              Go Ask Your Father

“Go ask your father.”

“Go ask your mother.”

“She said to ask you.”

“Go ask her anyway.”

“Go ask your father again.”

“He said to ask you.”

“Well, I told you to ask him.”

“It’s your mother’s decision.”

“He says it’s your decision.”

“It’s okay with me if it’s okay with your mother.”

“It’s okay with me if it’s okay with your father.”


That was always soooooooooooooooo annoying.


I wish I could be that annoyed again.
Lawrence Hall Feb 19
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                             I Believe in Love, NOW STAY AWAY

In the tiny coffee shop all the tables were full
A man kept his table to himself
And would not acknowledge anyone
Defensive behind his deep-thoughts book

The rest of us shared our tables and space
Exchanging greetings, pleasantries, and thanks
Passing the cream and sweeteners and napkins around
                       All
Except for that one poor sullen man

On the cover was a drawing of a Christian dove -
His book was entitled *I Believe in Love
The book is entitled I BELIEVE IN LOVE. I couldn't coax the * into doing its job. :)
Lawrence Hall Feb 18
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                              The Problems with Self-Publishing

The problems with self-publishing are self-publishers:
“Everyone just loves my book; tell me what you think
It’s about my cousin who was a Navy SEAL
And then became a millionaire and then a priest

“He saved the nation from nuclear warfare
In a mission so classified that we can’t talk about it
(But he told me all about it, of course)
And then he saved souls and counseled with popes

“My book is inspired by the Holy Spirit
So read it tonight and tell me what you think”
Lawrence Hall Feb 17
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                            Graveside Service on a Blustery Day

               “The old order changeth, yielding place to new”

                           -Tennyson, Idylls of the King

The widower assisted to his place
Mourners in unaccustomed dresses and suits
A bible, leaflets fluttering in the wind
And gangly teens unsure what they should do

February clouds roiling and boiling
Even the officiant’s words are blown away
Prayers lifted into silence by the wind
They may have fallen by the gravediggers’ tractor

Or were blown through the leaning chain-link fence
Into the deeply darkening Grendel-woods

But still – in back –
                                                 a boy and a girl shyly touch hands
Lawrence Hall Feb 16
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                       Has All the Gold Been Stolen from Fort Knox?

                     Elon Musk encouraged to crack open Fort Knox
                     and audit the gold reserves

                           -New York Post, 16 February 2025

President Musk will now make an audit
Of the gold in Fort Knox, down to the dime
But all he will find (he may have already caught it)
Is the missing TP from the covid time!
Fort Knox, Missing Gold
Lawrence Hall Feb 16
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                   Portrait of Monsieur Gaudry and His Daughter

                           For all Daughters and Their Fathers

Monsieur is dressed for a quiet evening at home
As is his daughter in her cozy white wrap
Leaning dutifully upon his shoulder as he predicts
With globe and maps the empires of her mind

The empires of her mind which she will rule
With subtle wit and work instead of war
With armies of thought and beauty and art and truth
To conquer chaos and set the world aright

She's a guardian of goodness in a little girl’s guise
(But inwardly, I think, she’s rolling her eyes)




“The Geography Lesson,” Louis-Leopold Boilly, 1812, Kimbell Art Museum, Fort Worth, Texas
“The Geography Lesson,” Louis-Leopold Boilly, 1812, Kimbell Art Museum, Fort Worth, Texas
Lawrence Hall Feb 15
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                     Each Kiss is a Distraction

While we weren’t watching
They might have declared war on Canada
We’d better check around
Lawrence Hall Feb 14
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                    Watching the Rain Without You

The rain is incomplete without you
If you were here we could sit on the couch
I’d put a Frank Sinatra on the machine
So he and the rain could sing to us

But especially to you

The rain is incomplete without you
If you were here we could lie on the floor
As I read the funny papers to you
And do you like good ol’ Charlie Brown?

But of course you do

The rain is incomplete without you
It misses you almost as much as I

Almost
Lawrence Hall Feb 13
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                          My Shakespearean Girl

I woke in sadness that the dream had passed
But joyed that the vision had come at all              
To comfort me with happy memories cast
Into my sleep through moonlight on the wall

Through moonlight on the wall, through starlit sky
That long-ago world in our golden youth
When she danced as lightly as a butterfly
Through sunlit fields where all was truth

Through sunlit fields on her little bare feet
As gracefully as a leaping summer fawn
Or rhyme and meter when in verse they meet
In that magic hour whence breathes the dawn

In that magic hour we were once more
So very close to that opening door…
Feb 12 · 137
Groovin' on Graveyards
Lawrence Hall Feb 12
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                       The Graveyard Shift

At two in the morning everything is old
The hours, the work, the fluorescent lights
The air, the night, flickering computer screens
Even the freshly-made coffee in the break room

At two in the morning everything is old
The way the new guy snuffles his dripping nose
The cleaning lady’s mop bucket and its rattling roll
The snoopervisor’s totally fake good cheer

At two in the morning everything is old
“You’ll love the fellowship on graveyards,” I was told
Lawrence Hall Feb 11
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                       A Penny Saved is a Worthless Zinc Disc
                                 Gathering Dust in a Drawer


                          “Feed the birds, tuppounds a bag…”

                               -as Mary Poppins did not sing


It seems that our last penny has been spent
We will miss the fakey copper glint
Our other ***-metal coinage should take the hint:
We do not have a stable governMINT
Lawrence Hall Feb 10
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                              Where Do Tariffs Go When They Die?


   “I have no window with which to look into another man’s soul.”

     Attributed to Saint Thomas More, Queen Elizabeth I, and others


And what do tariffs do while they are alive
If a Canadian cow ambles through a broken fence
And then gives birth on the south side of the wire
Can the calf claim birthright citizenship

                    (Did you hear about the bow-legged cowgirl
                    who couldn’t get her calves together?)

I have no window for looking into the soul of a cow
That is, if a cow can have a soul
Or aluminum / aluminium
Or pig iron (probably not made from real pigs)

                     (Or the clueless cowboy who wore a pig iron on his hip?)

We add 25% to this taxable cow
So that peace and justice return right now

                    (Just put down Canada and no one will get hurt)
Lawrence Hall Feb 10
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                           Just Another Smug Football Recusant

Last night at dusk I admired the brightening stars
And before going inside put the gate on the latch
While saying goodnight to the Moon, Jupiter, and Mars
(Someone said something about a football match?)
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                    Exposition Kills Poetry

Poem:

Most exposition is an imposition
Like the supervisor who shadows you
Babbling incessantly needless admonition
Blocking your work so that nothing gets through

Respect your verse, how it dreams, how it flows
Your poetry is your will, your work, your way
But if you choose to explain it in prose
Your verse is left with nothing at all to say

Your poem is in itself your exhibition
Of art – so ditch the cluttery exposition

Exposition:

What I’m saying here is we shouldn't talk about our poetry because that’s talking about work instead of getting it done and if we have to explain to the reader what a poem means we’re not allowing the poem to be true to itself and so why attempt the discipline of meter, rhyme, metaphor, simile, narrative flow, and the many other elements of poesy if we’re just going to repeat in prose what the meter, rhyme, metaphor, simile, narrative flow, and the many other elements of poesy should be doing if we have crafted our work with artistry as well as imagination because exposition implies that either we don’t respect your work and our reader or that we have been deliberately obscure in our verse which in the event is pointless because a poem is itself, it is supposed to communicate an idea, a dream, a hope and not simply flounder about as a soup of disconnected words in a sort of the king’s new clothes of deception which is patronizing and not clever at all because if a reader who is reasonably well read and understands an age-appropriate catalogue of literary, cultural, historical, and artistic allusion to make connections then we have failed the reader and, worse, failed our own attempts at poetic art.
Feb 8 · 173
Little Thoughts of God
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                             Little Thoughts of God

          We are not some casual and meaningless product of
          evolution. Each of us is the result of a thought of God. Each of
          us is willed, each of us is loved, each of us is necessary.

                                     -Papa Benedict, 24 April 2005


Our children play with little toy trucks and trains
Comb Barbie’s hair and then arrange Ken’s tie
They get fussed at for pulling the puppy’s tail
They cuddle up with kittens and Winnie-the-Pooh

Our children create worlds with construction paper
Discover Narnia in a new box of crayons
They get fussed at for writing on the wall
They squirm in church; they tickle Daddy’s beard

Our children love their chapter books (and us!)
“Is this a picture of a pirate ship?”
They get fussed at for asking soooooo many questions
“Daddy, will you read us a story now?”

Dear Lord –

Let our children grow up and make us proud

Dear Lord –

Let our children grow up
In 2022 firearms accounted for 30% of deaths in children 1 to 17

-Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Health
Annual Firearm Violence Data | Center for Gun Violence Solutions
Feb 7 · 112
Pirates to Starboard!
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                      Pirates to Starboard next to the Dairy Cows!

My neighbors’ field is low; it tends to flood
Their children sail their kayak as pirates bold
And laugh and splash upon the sloshy mud
Swallows and Amazons in search of gold

Most comfortable with our feet propped up
We old folks sit upon the porch all dry
Each an admiral with his coffee cup
And let the heavy monsoon pass us by

We too were pirates in our dreaming youth
We wish we still were – and that’s the truth!
Allusion to SWALLOWS AND AMAZONS
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                 On a Morning of Sunlit Frost


                       The greatest adventure is what lies ahead

          -Laws / Bass / Yarborough for the 1977 film of The Hobbit


I dream of a morning of sunlit frost
An early October morning, the sun just up
At the end of the lane I make a left
Then left again on the high road north

I won’t look back at either turning
I won’t look back
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                    A Dachshund Dreaming of Rabbit for Supper

My little Luna-Dog has a bad habit
Of chasing after her back-yard rabbit

But still let not your mind be troubled or fraught
With fear for that rabbit who is never caught!
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                Jim Croce and a Rainy Morning

When the plane went down that was the end
Of telephone operators and bottles of time
But the electronics are kind enough to send
Good memories of when coffee was a dime

You really could mess around with Jim
If you knew your way around a chord
And heard his lyrics as a workman’s hymn
That spoke of art offered to the Lord

He gave us good thoughts through his guitar’s strum -
And, yeah, a wild moustache to back away from!
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

        Forming a Committee Around a Car That Wouldn’t Start

The engine wouldn’t turn over; the electrics were dead
We stood around the open hood, each scratching his head

1st Member:

“It appears to me it’s the dead battery
There’s no indication of a charge, you see”

2nd Member:

“I’m a college graduate, so I am smarter
Obviously the problem is with the starter”

3rd Member:

“There’s a smell in the engine, something tannic
And I should know; I’m a certified mechanic”

4th Member:

“I’m a knight of the road; I drive a freighter
Just let me at that broken alternator”


But none of our skilled efforts came to pass
Because no one had bothered to check

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

                                  The Bright Green Wheelie-Bin

                            (Much Superior to a Red Wheelbarrow)

The wheelie-bin is pretty in its own rustic way
Thick plastic moulded in ecological green
To be rumbly-dragged on garbage day
To the end of lane to grace our suburban scene

Very little depends upon the wheelie-bin:
Unpleasant household garbage on its rounds
The really useful stuff has been well dug in
The loam – potato peels and coffee grounds

But note ye well - this garden plot thickens
For we have sparrows and crows
                                                           ­                   but no white chickens
Cf. William Carlos Williams' "The Red Wheelbarrow."
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                  Do Dreams Fade Away at Dawn? Or Do We?

Do dreams beyond the dreamer dream
The imagined lands from deepest night
In which we live and seem to love -
Do they exist at morning’s light?
Lawrence Hall Jan 31
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

        It Became Necessary to Destroy the Constitution to Save It

             -as an unnamed army major in Viet-Nam did not say


When old Rip Van Me wakes up each morning he finds
A world unlike the one when his nap began -
Who are these angry faces on great screens?
Why are there cracks in the Capitol dome?

Arrests and deportations, mobs with clench’ed fists
Grim armored vehicles patrolling our city streets
A presidential advisor hurling **** salutes
Personal loyalty checks within our surveillance state

When old Rip Van Me wakes up each morning he finds
A nation of madmen who have lost their minds
Jan 30 · 139
Flight 5342
Lawrence Hall Jan 30
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

             Happy Young Lives Rich with Promise and Dreams

                                 “I will go to the Altar of God”

Ephemera among the searchlight beams:
A paperback novel, a Mickey Mouse doll
Purses and ‘phones, and in-flight magazines
Briefcases still securing important work

Ephemera among the searchlight beams:
A note about souvenirs for the kids back home
From the Folger and the aerospace museum
Ice skates in the bins, safely stowed away

But now

Now lost to us among the searchlight beams:
Happy young lives rich with promise and dreams
Lawrence Hall Jan 29
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                             Cancelling the InterGossip Service

And how are you today I am so very glad to hear that thank you sir you have paid today so we won’t be able to cancel the service until next month I am so glad to hear that we need a mailing address so that we can send you a box for the equipment thank you sir no a post office box won’t do I am sorry sir you are breaking up yes sir let me read that back to you thank you sir let me verify your account number that is correct and thank you I will need your zip code will you repeat that thank you but our records show that your service address is oh that is not it please tell me again thank you sir I will read it back to you thank you sir you will have thirty days from the twenty-seventh of next month to return the equipment in the box we will provide to you at your mailing address and I have that mailing address so thank you sir if you will wait two minutes while I access your file thank you sir and I will need your mailing address oh I see I have that sir for the equipment return thank you sir which will cost you $350 if it is not returned thank you sir and now I must read you this list now if you have any questions if you will please wait two minutes thank you sir and may I ask why you are discontinuing service and are you moving sir if you will wait two minutes while I update your records thank you sir and I have your mailing address and may I ask why you are discontinuing service with us oh I am so sorry sir but did they tell you it is fibre optic I understand sir before we go I want to advise you that because you are a long-time customer we have a special offer thank you sir I am happy to have helped you sir and I hope you have a good rest of the day
Lawrence Hall Jan 28
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                     Late January is a Time of Grey

I read a little in Billy Collins just now
Because Tolkien is in the other room
Along with the laundry and an unmade bed
Late January is a time of grey

I just want to sit with my coffee awhile
And then I’ll stow the laundry and make the bed
The dishwasher can remain silent until tomorrow
Late January is a time of grey

I was nibbled to death by ducks today
Because
Late January is a time of grey
Lawrence Hall Jan 27
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                           A brief Discourse on Forbidden Love

Our culture again is oppressively hag-ridden:
All love in our time is sternly forbidden
Lawrence Hall Jan 26
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                           Guarding the Borders Against Criminals


                    In any case we are not attacking them at all.
                    We are offering them incalculable benefits.

                      ― T.H. White, The Once and Future King


They began settling here a long time ago
At first they were welcome, but they developed a ‘tude
We need their charity - they tell us so!
But their intentions are obvious and crude

With insolence, edict, and a heavy political hand
They’ve come to save us from ourselves; that’s what they say
Here in our beloved, Canada, our home and native land –

Oh, won’t the Americans just go away!
Lawrence Hall Jan 25
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                       Third Sunday in Extraordinary Time

Dear friends in Christ,

The divine liturgy will be delayed for a few minutes
While the new regime checks everyone’s papers
Lawrence Hall Jan 25
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                         A Corporal Who Would Never Be a Sergeant

He was a corporal who would never be a sergeant
In a Palmach squad that would never be recognized
By the Palmach or by the Haganah.
He was a rabbi of the rocks and rubble and roads

He would never be recognized as a rabbi
He loved a curly-haired girl who would never marry him
And was friends with a little feral dog
Who crept out to him from behind the ruins

There was blood that called to him from Poland
In Yiddish and Hebrew; he didn’t remember why
He was a luftmensch, but dependable in his way
A littleness never admitted to staff meetings

He did what he was told to do, and then ignored
He delivered messages and curious packages
To obscure points forbidden to him and his kind
And the dog was shot dead for someone’s sport

With an old British rifle he cleared strongpoints
So that the officers could add to their resumes’
And he was told by the cooks that he was too late
As they laughed and closed the door on him

Confusion and smoke, and fighting in the streets
Burning corpses and armored cars, wild screams
There was little of him after the RPG hit
And children scurried out to mutilate and steal

He was posted as missing, possibly a deserter
Lawrence Hall Jan 24
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                            She Loved Waiting for Godot


                 “Like impatience etherised on a table”

                               -As T. S. Eliot did not say


She said that he loved Waiting for Godot
That for her it was a great work of art
I told her to go wait in someone else's life
Because I have built some meaning into mine
Jan 23 · 106
Substackery
Lawrence Hall Jan 23
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                               Substackery

                         (I don’t know what a substack is)

To a man who wrote an essay on classical music:

I can’t tell you that I really enjoy your work
I’d have to pay fifty dollars for the privilege
But if you will pay me only five or so
I will tell you that I really enjoy your work
Lawrence Hall Jan 22
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office


  Tonight I Looked Up at the Sky and Named it Warren G. Harding

                                               Because I Can


     “All names will soon be restored to their proper owners. In the
                       meantime we will not dispute about noises.”

                -Aslan in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe


Denali, McKinley, Denali, McKinley again
The Gulf of Mexico is this week’s Gulf of America
Confederates in storage bewail their sin
Fort Beauregard is now good Fort Generica

Highways are named by passion and mood
Local streets for the glorious heroes of yore
But a new generation finds the old signs rude
And replaces them perhaps with a football score

Slow-fading names to cuss and discuss
But in the end what will God name
                                                                ­         each of us?
Lawrence Hall Jan 21
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                       Tiny Artists of the Night

Snowflakes by flashlight in the deepening dark
I left them to their night of proper tasks
They beamed down to the earth all over the park
And for the cold grey dawn they’ve made great masks

Plateaus of iridescent white to layer the lawn
Transcendent beauty in a transient medium
Still falling against the feeble all-day dawn
Little artists who form great truths from tedium

And then mysteriously they fly away
To shape more existentials some other day
Lawrence Hall Jan 20
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                           The Dignity of the Office

Whatever the incoming president fancies
(One hopes to speak without fear of libel)
Ageing (entertainers) in chancy pantsies
And will he take his oaf on a Village People Bible?
Lawrence Hall Jan 19
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                          The White House Inaugural Banquet
                           and the Idle Dishwashing Machine


                    Henry II: Fork?

                    Becket: It's for pronging meat and carrying it to the
                                 mouth. It saves you dirtying your fingers.

                    Henry II: But then you ***** the fork.

                    Becket: Yes, but it's washable.

                    Henry II: So are your fingers. I don't see the point.

                                                   -Becket (1964)

The White House dishwashing machine is idle, kids
Our leaders grub with fingers for their food
Cardboarded burgers as greasy pyramids
On mahogany Queen Anne tables strewed

The sycophants kiss their effendi’s (ring)
And fall to feeding at his soigne trough
No waiters are needed to pour and pass
The diners chortle and chew and choke and cough

The White House dishwashing machine is idle, guys
(Dessert is Velveeta oozing over French fries)
Lawrence Hall Jan 19
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                          The Holy Bible as a Base for a Potted Plant

On a shelf in our local pharmacy
A somewhat tattered Bible has reposed for years
And on that Bible is positioned a potted plant
And above them on the wall a cowboy cartoon

The iconography is elusive to me
One seeks for meaning in an assemblage:
So why this thing in this place at this time?
Existentially speaking (as we said in the ‘60s)
                        Why?

A curious piece of iconography
On a shelf in our local pharmacy
Lawrence Hall Jan 18
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

    Dag Hammarskjold  Negotiates with Himself and with God

                 Cf. Auden’s introduction to Vagmarken


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

            Vagmarken (Markings), p. 55 in the 1965 Knopf edition


When you were a little child
If you attend a school named for Dag Hammarskjold
How long did it take you to learn to spell his name?

And you are now an adult
And blessed with Hammarskjold’s Vagmarken
How long did it take you to joy in his transcendent good?
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