One day I'll wake up with the sunlight in my eyes
Until that day comes I will keep on getting by
I'll keep on waiting
Until I wake up with the sunlight in my eyes

The sunny days thar never seem to stay
Those sunny days won't seem so far away

Someday I'll wake up feeling like I am brand new
Until that day comes I will keep on feeling blue
I'll keep on waiting
Until I wake up with the sunlight in my eyes

The sunny days that never seem to stay
Those sunny days won't seem so far away

One day I'll wake up from this dream I'm falling in
When that day comes I will settle in my skin
I'll keep on waiting
Until I wake up with the sunlight in my eyes

The sunny days that never seem to stay
Those sunny days won't seem so far away

Lawrence Hall HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                             1957: The Year We All Became Soviets

                 “…we’re going to get science applied to social problems
                  and backed by the whole force of the state…”

              Mark Studdock in C. S. Lewis’ That Hideous Strength

Soviet Science launched a beeping toy into space
In the name of Progress; a mass-murderer ordered it so
And a month later Science launched and killed sweet Laika
Abandoned in orbit to die alone

Brave America suffered the Aunt Pittypat vapours:
We too must launch our slide-rules into space
And set our children to study Sovietism
Send civilization into orbit to die alone

Dogs and apes and men have flamed out in crashes
And Alexandria again is but pale ashes

As it was
in the beginning
So, it is now
One can’t know
happiness
Unless, one learns how
to shed the last tear of the just
forever holding peace
thereafter

As we sailed the fast river of Rhône
the steady sun bleached it a sparkling gold
like the treasures of Caesar’s kingdom

A curtain of fawn-silken tackle, shaded
back the fervidly garish star scatter,
and cooling flower-scented airs tickled
the senses like touching down-soft silk

"zhuang hong zhuang sheng" (Chinese)
“Put on airs’ - Peter and I are Gatsby gilded.
Why not dress - on luminous forenoons?

Pick a heart, any heart and ***** it, sharply,
with the sight of a handsome man.
I yet breathless, breathe

What weapon is sharper than libido?

I defend myself, with fashion’s sartorial sparkle.
Frankly, I was hoping for something passively ******,
you know, foment a false perception - dazzle
with fancy outwork to tip the cosmic balance

Men will witness what they believe
.
.
song for this:
Desperately Trying by Club des Belugas, Anna Luca

10p.0615

I didn’t do the dishes today
Instead I played video games
And ordered takeout again
There are gnats in the kitchen
And I didn’t want to go in there

I didn’t make myself coffee today
Instead I stayed in my bed
And watched a show that I love
I didn’t want to go in there
There are gnats in the kitchen

I didn’t do the laundry today
Instead I wore the same clothes again
And the walls ate me alive
There are gnats in the kitchen
And I didn’t want to go in there

I didn’t take out the trash today
Instead I stared at my phone
And rotted with the takeout from yesterday
I didn’t want to go in there
There are gnats in the kitchen

I didn’t go outside today
Instead I let the blankets swallow me
And every day I’m more confined
There are gnats in the kitchen
And I don’t want to go in there

Tell you what I see
a species with potential
to destroy themselves

I'm gonna tell you a secret
but I'll dress it up as a lie
I don't speak the language
and I don't know why.
I often dream of a distant wood
ceiling of green, shafts of light beaming
and the calm interrupted by
a horrible steady screaming.
When we were young I wished
to trap moments in frozen jars
left overnight in the fridge
to keep them as the the sky keeps stars.
Now looking at the rugged lines
on my worn and aging hands
I hope for rebirth but watch our
heroes travel to distant lands.
What becomes of us when
the clock winds down and tonight ends?
Do we push at an obstinent earth
and continue to hope it bends?