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

                 Who Now Will Read Paradise Lost With Us?

                        In Memory of Robert Fluornoy Conn
                          Attorney, scholar, eccentric, friend


                     With loss of Eden, till one greater Man
                     Restore us, and regain the blissful seat,
                     Sing heavenly muse…

                                         Paradise Lost I.4-6


A Methodist, a Catholic, and an Anglican
Did not walk into a bar – they brought their own Scotch

“I don’t do funerals anymore”
He said to me a few weeks ago
Creaky and old in the late winter cold -
He can’t get out of this one today

We read Milton together when we were young
A year of Thursday nights with whisky and pipes
In Tod’s old office away from some women
Who disapproved of tobacco, books, and thought

Now far along Bilbo’s road they both have gone
And we are left in company with good stout friends

But still somehow

Alone

I was hatched upon this earth
A day before all time
I was made to toll the earth
For all of humankind
Watched all the centuries
Of horrid humankind
And now I seek satisfaction
To ease my wasted mind

The seventh born son of God
The glory to be mine
I was called but chosen not
Nor were the glory mine
Cast out of heaven
With a third the lot of man
Cast out of heaven
By my own dear father's hand

Pluto says
Keep your hug

Pluto says
Dwarf Planet my ***

Pluto says
Sticks and Stones *******

Pluto says
I know what I am
I don’t care
For your “opinion”

Captured by the Kuiper Belt! Please.
Or one my favorites,
A cold rock!

You called me a trans-Neptunian object?
I have five moons!
An 11 year old girl tried to name me.
She won £5 but I’ve had many names.
I am fond of Hiro.
But I’ve also liked Minerva.
I am hardly a minor planet.

In 2006 they tried to make a verb out of me
To "pluto" is to "demote or devalue someone or something.”
*******!
So passive aggressive and insulting.

I am not carrying that around with me
My orbit is 248 years.
At a 17 degree angle thank you very much
To pay my respects to that egomaniac Sun.
Why would I care what you think?
Perhaps I am envied because I am so far away.
I don’t think that I am far away at all.
It’s relative, no?
Yes, I am removed
from that Versailles situation over there
and all that *******.
That horrible planet
You know the one that I mean.
The one that’s crawling with “things”
They’re not even you.
Disgusting.

I am awash with molten ices and
I even sport a plasma tail.
I spin in nitrogen gases
On my own path
Alone
With my FIVE moons!
Just us!

They claim that there are other
Dwarf Planets here and there
And even go so far as to suggest
That I am the puniest amongst them
But with my five and five more still
That’s 10 to 8
And you already know what I can do.

I, the queen,
Sit atop this throne of lies
This bed of secrets
This house of insecurity.
I alone rules these thing,
Long forgotten or freshly made,
Its all black, white, and red here
Black- darker than the light ******* black holes
White- lighter than the ashes of an exploded volcano
Red- brighter than the blood that stains this dress.

I, the queen,
Rule this land of hate,
Of sin,
Of breathlessness.
With an iron fist I govern all within my realm
To make up for these broken, rusted wings,
Which I have so graciously ripped off my back.
Fallen I am no more,
After all,
It is better to rule in hell than serve in heaven.

One can't help but doubt -
The bulb in a dark room -
We blindly stumble in and out of each other nightly
Running away into mirrors of whence we came
Alone
After all, silence could be the screaming of Death's victims filtering into the abyss of an unreturned hello
But we'd never hear it : only feel its cold feet
Already gone
Already gone
The floor never looks cleaner than when we neglect the mop

He woke up from a dream today,
To gaze sight at the break of dawn,
A part of his life gone for the day,
As the morning dew drops on the lawn

Precious memories mingled with emotions,
As the night before played in his mind,
A beauty that needs full devotion,
The red tulip blooms for his kind

Tears fill his dazed eyes,
A thought lingers for that touch,
This heart twisted with cries,
His mortal love for a soul he has not seen much

The dark clouds sweep in gracefully,
Announcing the fall of the mighty rain,
This soul sits in the corner of despair,
Afraid of that grey world of calamity

The windowpane becomes blurry,
And so do his visions of her fade away,
In the cold midnight chill,
Leaving the darkness to prevail

He kneels down by his bed,
Gazing up at the darkened skies,
The moon shining bright,
And the stars twinkling brighter

He prays to the nightfall,
As his ravenous beauty dances with the stars,
Her shadow among the clouds,
An apparition hidden among the darkness,

This dark forlorn love,
As the sands of time change,
He remains there still,
An embodiment of his sacred feeling,
Worshiping her, day and night.

Vijaya Balan (2008)