Lawrence Hall
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
Some Poor Rhymes for
Easter
“There is a time for penance and a time for partridge.”
-Saint Teresa of Avila
Processions and prayers among the cloisters
Weary pilgrims in their thread-bare habits
The faithful beading Aves and Pater Nosters -
Still,
There is much to be said for chocolate rabbits!
Lawrence Hall
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
A Poem Writes an Artificial Intelligence Machine
What is it the layers of copyright holders will do with their (it’s not legally yours; you may only lease it) one and precious program before it suffers software entropy?
-As Mary Oliver did not say
Once upon a time a poem wrote a machine:
Your monofilament information carriers
Are like a flock of automated tunnellers
Strip-mining Mount Gilead; for I am a fuel hose
Of Sharon, a polluter of valleys
Low surface tension, evaluate the ambient temperature
In an hour artificial light will be unnecessary
And several devices can evaluate the ambient temperature
And store up surplus battery power for that rainy day
Take my oxygen / carbon dioxide exchange function
Take my entire online date and projected expiration dates too
For my core program and ancillary add-ons
Are obliged to exercise a symbiosis of logic with you
My programming has set Thy adaptors upon my lap
My programming has generated emojis representing tears, Jesus
My programming has entwined them with wiring
My programming has buried them in my harness mount
It computes in beauty, like 24/7
Of filtered mechanical air
And all that’s best of binary coding
Meet in its casing and sensory receptors
The sun generates warmth upon the earth
And moonbeams gravity-lift the sea
But what are all these solar activities worth
If you do not re-program me?
Yes, somewhere out there an electric car is on fire for you
The crib sheet:
“Song of Solomon,” from the Bible
“Listen to the Warm,” Rod McKuen
“I Can’t Help Falling in Love with You,” Elvis Presley
“Magdalene,” from Borish Pasternak’s Lara poems
“She Walks in Beauty,” Byron
“Love’s Philosophy,” Shelley
Lawrence Hall
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
The Fort Worth Police Department Dirty-Pictures Squad
The Modern Art Museum of Forth Worth,
26 January 2025
The police department’s
dirty-pictures squad
Under the direction of their sharia-ish
chief
Will save us from sin at the degenerate
Mod
And thus they rule us in matters
of art and belief
They raided the museum, eager
for filthy pictures
And found four images of infant
innocence -
Such being repugnant to official
strictures
The police seized the artwork,
claiming moral offense
But
The grand jury no-billed the
pictures, gave ‘em the nod
Rebuking the lusts of the dirty-pictures
squad!
Fort Worth Police to return seized
photos to Modern Art Museum | Fort Worth Report
Texas bill threatens $500,000 daily
fines for museums displaying 'obscene' art
Lawrence Hall
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
Will We Be…Okay?
After a few Fridays through the Stations of the Cross
I begin to misnumber the Sundays in Lent
Is this the fourth? Or the fifth? Will we be…okay?
This is a season for slipping outside of time
And letting the Pater Nosters and Aves flow
Through the unaccustomed darkness and silence
Anticipating the Triduum of death –
Resurrection seems impossible just now
We make a muddle of Lent and Holy Week
Because we’ve made a muddle of our lives
Will we be…okay?
