superfluous really,

my insatiable pursuit of ecstasy
and ruminations of slaughter
only to find my ferality
alone in introspective cacophony
waiting and waiting for prey.

the inherent beauty of the mob
is in the fluidity of their anger
it is the colors of burning buildings
the music of guttural chants
the freedom granted by inevitable destruction
and the finality
of their judgment
it is in the perfection of collective enmity
and the clamant rectification of flaws perceived
so that in the end
all that remains
is the disarrayed corpse of the mob
and the excrement of it’s existence
not as a force of humanity
but as a mechanism
of wanton ferality

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                              The Gift of a Fountain Pen

                                               For Max

A fountain pen is an instrument of civilization
Its flow of ink explores the mysteries
Of all the sciences, the mind, the heart
Sorting out the good, the beautiful, the true

A fountain pen is an instrument of civilization
Through creativity, with thought and craft
Marking the line between good order and ferality
Limning the eternal romance of Creation

A fountain pen is an instrument of civilization –
(It’s also pretty good for shopping lists)