do we really want
our country imprisoned by a wall
and all the seasonal Mexican harvest workers
locked out?

California and other
southern border states
do not seem so enthusiastic
about this concept

legal or illegal
they need the (wo)man power
to get their fruit and vegetables
to the (super) market

therefore, dear ICE
& other border guard units

get your act together
do NOT separate children
     from their parents    
try to use your brains
      rather than follow your orders

and act
like good Americans would

(TO be read aloud and heard in that strange deep voice that you hear when you talk to yourself

the one that sounds like it comes from inside your head
between your ears, when you can feel the vibration)

.....

Sojourn
Soujorn
Soooujourn
Jousorn?
Sojourn
So­journ! jousorn
juooooosooorn
Sojourn? jousorn
Sojourn.
Sou...Journ
soujourn
soujourn
soujourn
soujorn
soujorn
jousorn?
sooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuu­
journ
sojourn, sojourn
jousorn
jousorn

(breathing sounds)
mmm hmmm
hmmm hmmm

mmmm hmmm
(breathing sounds)

sooooouuujoooouurn
jooooooouuuussssssssooooouuurn
Sojour­n.

sojourn soujorn
soujorn?
soujorn.
sojourn!
sojourn.
josourn?
sooojourn.
sojourn.
SOOOOUUU....journ
SOOOOUUU....journ
SoooooUU­Uu....Journ
Jousorn.
Josourn.
soujorn.
sojourn.
.................­.................................................................­..................sojourn?
(now deadpan)
sojourn
josourn
jousorn
jousorn
soujorn
sojourn
sojouuur­n
sojouuuurn
sojouuuurn
sojouuurrn
sojouuurrnnnannnannnannannnn Sojooorun
sojourn
jousorn
jousooooorununnnnnnunnnnunnnn
sojourn
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jousorn
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jjjjjjooooooooouuuuujjjjjjjjoooooouuuuuuus­oooooooorrrrrnnnnnnuuunnnuuuunnnnnuuuuunnnnuuuunnnn
sojourn?
jous­ourn.
joursorn.
sojourn
.........................................­.........
.................................................
.....­.....................................
sojouuurrnnnannnannnannannn­n Sojooorun
sojourn
jousorn
jousooooorununnnnnnunnnnunnnn
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jousorn
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(breathing sounds)
mmm hmmm
hmmm hmmm

mmmm hmmm hmmmmmm hmmmmmm hhhmmmmmm hmmmmmmm nnnnnnnnn mmmhhmhmmmmmmhmmmmmmmm
(breathing sounds)
.......................
......................
..........­..........
soujorn?
soujorn.
sojourn!
sojourn.
josourn?
sooojourn.
sojourn.
sooooouuujoooouurn
jooooooouuuussssssssooooo­uuurn
Sojourn.

sojourn soujorn
soujorn?
soujorn.
sojourn!
sojourn.
josourn?
sooojourn.
sojourn.
hnnhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnhhnnnnnnnnnnnnnnannnnnannn­nnnnnnnnnnaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnuuuuuuuuuuunnnnnnnnnuuuuuuuuunnnnnn
­sojourn
Sojourn
Soujorn
Soooujourn
Jousorn?
Sojourn
Sojourn! jousorn
juooooosooorn
Sojourn? jousorn
Sojourn.
Sou...Journ
soujourn
soujourn
soujourn
soujorn
soujorn
jousorn?
sooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuu­
journ
sojourn, sojourn
jousorn
jousorn

(breathing sounds)
mmm hmmm
hmmm hmmm

mmmm hmmm
(breathing sounds)

sooooouuujoooouurn
jooooooouuuussssssssooooouuurn
Sojour­n.

sojourn soujorn
soujorn?
soujorn.
sojourn!
sojourn.
josourn?
sooojourn.
sojourn.
SOOOOUUU....journ
SOOOOUUU....journ
SoooooUU­Uu....Journ
Jousorn.
Josourn.
soujorn.
sojourn.
.................­.................................................................­..................sojourn?
(now deadpan)
sojourn
josourn
jousorn
jousorn
soujorn
sojourn
sojouuur­n
sojouuuurn
sojouuuurn
sojouuurrn
sojouuurrnnnannnannnannannnn Sojooorun
sojourn
jousorn
jousooooorununnnnnnunnnnunnnn
sojourn
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jjjjjjooooooooouuuuujjjjjjjjoooooouuuuuuus­oooooooorrrrrnnnnnnuuunnnuuuunnnnnuuuuunnnnuuuunnnn
sojourn?
jous­ourn.
joursorn.
sojourn
sojourn
sojourn
.........................­............................................................
....­................................................................
­.............................................................
soj­ouuurrnnnannnannnannannnn Sojooorun
sojourn
jousorn
jousooooorununnnnnnunnnnunnnn
sojourn
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sooooooooojoooooouuuuunnnnnanannnnnnunnnnn
soujorn
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soujourn
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(breathing sounds)
mmm hmmm
hmmm hmmm

mmmm hmmm hmmmmmm hmmmmmm hhhmmmmmm hmmmmmmm nnnnnnnnn mmmhhmhmmmmmmhmmmmmmmm
hhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmm­mmmmmmmmmmmuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmmm
(breathing sounds)
.......................
......................
..........­..........
soujorn?
soujorn.
sojourn!
sojourn.
josourn?
sooojourn.
sojourn.
sooooouuujoooouurn
jooooooouuuussssssssooooo­uuurn
Sojourn.
jousorn
jousorn
jousorn
sojourn soujorn
soujorn?
soujorn.
sojourn!
sojourn.
josourn?
sooojourn.
sojourn.

I didn't mean to bother you.
I know you're busy.
And as it turns out,
I'm bad at apologies.
So here's a poem:

Rose are red,
Violets are blue,
I'm also bad at rhyming,
So here's a Haiku:

Haiku's aren't easy.
So I'm having some trouble.
How about a song:

This is a song without music
So it's not very good
But you should know
That I'm sorry
Hey, Hey,
I'm sorry for bothering you
Hey, Hey,
Maybe I should try a Limerick instead:

There once was a guy named Dan
He had just eaten some ham
He tried to write stories
To say he was sorry
But everything he wrote was bland

Alright, so maybe the Limerick thing didn't work out either
.
.
.
Hmmmmmmm
.
.
.
Oh!  Oh!  How about an epic story!?
                                                         ­                                           (But you just said you were bad at those)
It was a dark and stormy night.
                                                        ­                                                                 ­          (Come on, that's lame)
SHUT UP, BRAIN.  I'M TRYING TO MAKE THIS APOLOGY CUTE.
.
.
.
Ahem
.
.
.
So there we were, alone out on the battlefield.  A single hawk circled above.
"I don't know how much more of this heat I can take," you told me.
We continued walking when suddenly, a giant tiger with teeth as sharp as a knives jumped out in front of us!
"Why is there a tiger in this desert!" you screamed in horror.
"Don't question the plotline!" I yelled raising my sword.
The tiger leaped at me with all its might.
"I'll protect you, my dear!"
I dodged left; sword still at the ready.  The tiger turned around slowly, his dark eyes burning into my soul.  What could I possibly do to defeat this huge beast?  The tiger jumped again, but this time I was ready.  I ran at him and slid onto my knees.  As the tiger lept over me I thrusted my sword upwards into its stomach, killing it instantly.
We had survived the attack, went to find shelter, and lived happily ever after.  The End

Long story short:  I'm bad at saying sorry, I don't know what that story had to do with saying sorry, and I hope this made you laugh a little.  It certainly made me feel better writing it.

This Thanksgiving, I'm happy you're back in my life.  :)

Peace.

well idk
but heres my best try
im not certain of myself
im shy
some say i have a certain....
masculinity about me....
idk what they mean
but i do know i can hurt others
physically to easily....
i try not to though
i dont like pain
dont like to give it
cuz i know how it feels
to recieve pain from those you thought you knew
but do we ever truly know someone
i know i get off track
but that's just me, i guess
i still dont fully know myself
but i also dont know anyone that does
if you do
then good for you
and could you help me
to know myself....
idk who i am
what i am
where im at
or anything really about myself
i know a bit of what im told i am
that im weird
im a ******
im different
im nothing
im nobody
and you know what
most of this came from females. :/
oh well
their loss
cuz sooner or later
ill be gone
maybe not today
maybe not tomorrow
but theyll be sorry for how they treated me
maybe
idk
i guess thats my answer for most things
IDK
it makes me want to laugh
if you got in my head
would you scream?
would you run?
hmmmmmmm
*Who I am........no.......Who am I?

Sometimes it hits me
Like one to many shots of whiskey after a late night binge the taste of tequila and regret stuck to the back of the throat like some nasty film
Vaguely reminiscent overly ripe peachs
When the world goes dark and all you can do is hope to wake to something better
The kind of sudden drag that seems to smack you so hard you drool
Like the brain can't comprehend what it's thinking, feeling, or even what ******* planet it's on anymore
Some sick lingering psychotic paranoia that can only be dreamt up from the bowels of  some deranged lunatic
The kind of thoughts that would if spoken give you one straight ticket to crazy town
Where the good ones fall into the sanctity of drugs and the wack jobs play in their bird cages tweeting insanity
Those moments when the brain goes quiet like some old tv buzzing it's electric static
Hmmmm hmmmm hmmmmmmm
Rhythmically ringing the fuzzing sharp inhalation
Cotten wrapping the ears, eyes at the tantamount and hands on auto
The brain checks into where the person checks out and it takes control
Those 80 mile hour thoughts where driving off the road and not stopping meets the white knuckle grip
I could do it there is no stopping the lurching slow tilting wheel
Nor is there anyone to breath me back into control
To take the knife off the steady sturdy rhythm, to stop the ****** up intermingling of sickend morbidity
It is unlike the calm and even character clicking past the blinking static
Blipping from the slack jawed intensity like some victim of PTSD
Still teeming in the aftermath like some sick puppy waiting on the ride to end
It's terrible and equally ****** up this abstracting feeling is like never waking up
Strung out on some mental drug causing the heart tripping hazard of frequency
Like falling in a dream only to realize you had never slept

Upon Reading Literary Reviews

Off the beaten path – is that part of the trail
That was blazed after the door to the future
Was unlocked with the key of somethingness
As an imaginative entrée, hmmmmmmm?

How dangerous it now must be to walk
Beneath that stress-fractured ceiling of glass
Paving the way that was blazed and unlocked
With the key to the future where dreams live

The oppressed voiceless up in champagne class
In resistance to the something-archy

And let The People yawn “iconic”

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                       Polysyllabic Aspirational Bourgeois Vanity
                                           (and, like, stuff)

Surrealism

A melting clock is not aesthetically pleasing
Nor is it of any utility
It celebrates chaos instead of life
And bullies us with a manifesto

Surrealism

Gives pale aesthetes topics for their idle hours
Surrendering imagination to cliches’
The endlessly self-referential I, I, me, me
(Another double-latte, if you please)

Surrealism

The republican’s derivative art is but
The emperor’s new clothes turned inside out


(And have you seen my serial takes on Greek ikons re-imagined and re-envisioned as diatomic forms through vegan egg-tempera on recycled barn wood as a repudiation of hidebound colonialist oppressivist occupationist Orthodoxy by sequencing monks on Mount Athos as agnostic Jewish fast-food workers influenced by the works of Dali and the Rapallo poets through a motif of running wedges in asymmetric lines from a cosmopolitan image of Heaven to a day-glow Wal-Mart beside a sea of transcendental bubbles which symbolize my feelings when my latest grant was canceled? Hmmmmmmm? Of course the straights don’t get it; their lack of imagination is why they stopped The People’s funding I deserve so that I can make great art chiding them for being dullard capitalist mechanicals. I take all major credit cards for my works.)