Three Short Poems

Lawrence Hall
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Sanctuary

There is nothing outside. Yes, there are doors
One can, for now, come in, for there are doors
And one can always leave, for there are doors
But to go where? There is nothing outside.


The Doors! The Doors!

The celebrant still cries “The doors! The doors!”
But now we shut them only on ourselves



Silly Old Ox

Two stockings make complete a pair of socks
And two physicians are a paradox
And two Greek fellows are, yes, Orthodox!