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Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                  A Treatise on the Burrowing Habits of Dachshunds


                                                   in memory of

                                     Astrid-the-Wonder-Dachshund

                six pounds of barking, yapping, demanding, and love


A dachshund will burrow under the garden fence
For every dachshund thinks she is a wolf
A fearsome apex predator with a squeaky toy -
This is in the nature of dachshunds

A dachshund will burrow into your tightly-closed hand
Nosing out the doggie treat you have hidden there
A fearsome apex predator and omnivore -
This is in the nature of dachshunds

A dachshund will burrow into your end-of-day lap
Watching both the television and the cats
A fearsome apex predator drooling on your book -
This is in the nature of dachshunds

A dachshund will burrow, borrow, beg, and bark
And in her foreshadowing of that better World to come
A dachshund will burrow deeply into your heart -
And love you forever

This is in the nature of dachshunds

And of you
This is from several weeks ago. I dedicated it to Astrid-the-Wonder-Dachshund who shortly before 0200 on a Sunday morning breathed her last with my hand resting on her to the end. Now she runs and plays with your dear pups and pets under the loving Hand of God Who "...will not deny one who is so blithe to go to Him" (A MAN FOR ALL SEASONS).
He shouted in a whisper
my name in his phlegm.
I miss you at the end
can we just start again?
I remember lovers from years ago.
I don't remember darkness or glow.
Angels and ****** felt the same.
For the life of me I forget their name.
Do you think
I don't know
I left you to sink
in the undertow?

I know I broke
all that mattered
we never spoke.
I died splattered.
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                        The Gates of Kiev are Now Smoke-Poisoned Skies

The Gates of Kiev are now only the skies
Drone-battered-bombed by the Siloviki
Against the peace of churches and sunflower fields
Workers and scholars and pastoral scenes

The Gates of Kiev once opened to all the world
Musicians, artists, builders, priests, and poets
Departed as missionaries to every land
Civilization from the Kievan Rus’

But now

The Gates of Kiev are smoke-poisoned skies
Through which foul Satan falls upon Slavic lands
"Those who will not study history..."

The arguments made again Ukraine defending itself from a murderous dictatorship are the same ones made against Britain for standing alone against ******.
(a disastrous morning Sonnet)

I am the very model of a girl who’s late for morning meal,
my charger failed, the printer jammed, the morning’s start has been surreal
I lost a scrunchy and a shoe, I had to use some dry shampoo
my Keurig had no k-cups too, I’m feeling like a total shrew!

Our pre-dawn jog went really well, but now the morning's gone to hell
I couldn’t find clean underwear, I’m desperate to charge my cell,
I got some soap in my left eye, I stubbed my toe and nearly cried
While brushing teeth and hair in haste, I wonder why I even try.

Anna’s got an attitude, she’s not someone who’s normally rude
her hookup so ‘experimental’ has an irregular sleep-in schedule
how’s she going to get to class if she’s babysitting sleeping-lass
I guess I’m not the only one, who’s schedules simply come undone.

I woke her with a gentle voice and soothed her out—we had no choice
My morning happened to sideways go—but it fueled this grandiloquent tale of woe!
.
.
A song for this:
Something Stupid by Michael Bublé and Reese Witherspoon
Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 11/17/24:
Grandiloquent = the use of extravagantly pompous language
etched under my skin
flame roses blister

scars on the palms
of my hands bleed
stigmata thorns

my eyes freeze to crystal
the tears around my neck are
fashioned in lace black obsidian

my lips - the color of amber
and fire - are vows
never broken

my moons are scarlet
my stars are cold
my sun is silver
and beaten GOLD


soulsurvivor
I am a line manager for the county
I'm in charge of the roads
Searching for someone
To supply tarmac
Cos we need loads
But there's no one
On the wire
I can hear my bosses whine
And the Wichita line manager
Is still on the line.
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                                     The Blues and the Blahs

“Ennui” sounds like a urinary tract infection
“Torpidity” something to do with one’s bowels
“Anomie” might be a boring friend
“Lassitude” a cowboy who has lost his rope

“Insipidity” the noise of slurping one’s soup
“Angst” a degenerative heart disease
“Weltschmerz” Sergeant Schultz’ least favorite beer
“Misanthropy” a cute but cranky girl

I don’t how many of these I have got
But I have got ‘em - and wish that I did not!
I’m no stranger to loneliness
I guess you could say it’s my friend
My bestie for now
On it to keep me company I depend

She gently slipped away
That’s the irony
No harsh words
Just a soft goodbye
With a smiling wave
Adios muchacho
“We gave it a try”

Alone I sit and contemplate
This zone where I isolate
It’s between here and there
Where the cold wind blows
I hang my head in sorrow
Yeah, and love ain’t fair
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