Lawrence Hall
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim's Journal of Life, Literature and Love
Among Fog-Shrouded Ruins
And here we are as on a darkling plain
-Matthew Arnold, “Dover Beach”
Wrapped in rags from The Creature Cantina
Their thin bare legs ending in chemical globs
They shuffled along with their hooded heads bowed
Deep-bent beneath Chaucerian pilgrims’ packs
Somewhat like roaming Jawas searching out scrap
But with deep-socketed eyes fixed on palantiri
Tiny Orwellian telescreens that guide
And guard them from the disturbance of thoughts
Sometimes Morlockian mechanical horns
Call them into pods of weakling Eloi
Obedient sacrifices rattling their chains
As the ogre-guarded dungeon they near
The lead Eloi approached in fear, his eyes all rheumy and red -
“Ah! you’re here for the chess club,” a welcoming Morlock said
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