Lawrence Hall, HSG
Dispatches
for the Colonial Office
Everyone is Now a
Two-Dimensional Religious Image
News writers are dull, almost catatonic
Dispensing metaphors soporifically phonic
For in their world of the cliched and ironic
Every topic, every person is invariably
Iconic
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Dispatches
for the Colonial Office
A Little Kitten and a
Little Girl
A little girl sits with her mug of milk
Happy and peaceful with her breakfast toast
Her little kitten lays beside her and purrs
And takes a delicate sip for itself
“DID YOU
LET THAT CAT DRINK FROM YOUR CUP THAT CAT HAS GERMS GO WASH YOUR HANDS GIVE ME
THAT CUP I NEED TO WASH IT I DON’T KNOW WHY THAT CAT IS IN THE HOUSE CATS HAVE
GERMS DIRTY CAT SNEAKY CAT THEY’RE ALWAYS UP TO SOMETHING DON’T YOU EVER LET AN
ANIMAL DRINK FROM YOUR CUP THEY’RE NASTY WE DON’T LIVE LIKE THIS WITH ANIMALS
IN THE HOUSE THAT’S A DISGUSTING HABIT PEOPLE WILL THINK WE’RE LOW CLASS WE
WERE RAISED BETTER THAN THAT DID YOU LET THAT CAT DRINK FROM YOUR CUP THAT
CAT HAS GERMS GO WASH YOUR HANDS GIVE ME THAT CUP I NEED TO WASH IT I DON’T
KNOW WHY THAT CAT IS IN THE HOUSE CATS HAVE GERMS DIRTY CAT SNEAKY CAT THEY’RE
ALWAYS UP TO SOMETHING DON’T YOU EVER LET AN ANIMAL DRINK FROM YOUR CUP THEY’RE
NASTY WE DON’T LIVE LIKE THIS WITH ANIMALS IN THE HOUSE THAT’S A DISGUSTING
HABIT PEOPLE WILL THINK WE’RE LOW CLASS WE WERE RAISED BETTER THAN THAT!!!!!!!!!”
A little girl sits in her backyard swing
Happy and peaceful with her little cat
Two conspirators winking at each other
Far away from their disapproving mother
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
A Station Stop for
the Hummingbird Express
Hummingbirds buzz the sugar water buffet
At this junction for the connection to Mexico
I feel I should be wearing a white apron and cap
Refills for everyone – and will that be to go?
No ideological baggage, no bumper stickers
Their maps all drawn for them by an invisible Hand
Their simple duties a transcendent joy
An ancient mission through divine command
Hummingbirds buzz the sugar water buffet
Then with a goodbye to summer they wing away
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
What This Country
Needs is a Better Class of Criminals
I don’t mind a parasite. I object to a cut-rate one.
-Rick in Casablanca
I was frustrated when my lawnmower wouldn’t start. I had
bought a new battery and was annoyed that it wasn’t holding a charge. I
dismounted, dragged up my rolling stool, and sat down to examine the battery
that to my surprise wasn’t there.
A thief in the night had yanked the battery, leaving only
the stripped ends of the leads. That was unprofessional; a good thief would
have brought the proper wrench or used the one I left within an arm’s reach of
the mower. Tools were available, the porch light was more than adequate – how much
of the work does a homeowner have to do for the contemporary petty criminal?
The bungling burglar didn’t get far with the battery,
however; I found it about twelve feet away from the mower. The poor sap had somehow
tripped, bringing some stacked firewood down upon him, and dropping the battery
while in flight. A few feet away he managed to trip again over some more
firewood, which is just plain embarrassing.
As a taxpaying citizen I expect a higher class of thief. No, I don’t necessarily
mean a Raffles or a John “The Cat” Robie, but maybe just a good quality
journeyman crook looking to build a better career.
The not-a-cat burglar does get some credit for focus,
though. Close by the lawnmower was a Stihl leaf blower worth far more than the
lawnmower battery, as well as an old but high-quality battery charger and a
small air compressor. But, no sir, the lad wanted a lawnmower battery and he avoided
all distractions in going for that. We must admire his sense of mission.
The follow-through was inept, though, leaving the battery,
the object of his endeavors, behind like that.
And a real professional would not have left messes – electric
leads torn loose, firewood all over the porch – it’s unseemly.
Frankly, I’m disappointed in the overall quality of burglars
and looters today. Is this the best America can do? Texans used to make off
with herds of cattle and now they can’t even pinch a lawnmower battery without
botching the job.
I blame the teachers, fluoride, George Bush, vaccines,
and Jewish space lasers for the poor quality of contemporary criminals. C’mon,
America; we can do better!
-30-
Lawrence Hall, HSG
What This Country
Needs is a Better Class of Criminals
I was frustrated that the lawn mower wouldn’t start
And checked the battery - that wasn’t there
A dull thief in darkness practicing his art
Had spirited it away – that wasn’t fair!
But the poor stupid burglar had no profit that night
He stumbled on the porch and dropped his loot
Cracking the battery, so he fled in fright:
It’s just too bad he didn’t fall on his snoot
(Sigh)
Aspiring young criminals, roll up your sleeves -
What this country needs are intelligent thieves
Lawrence Hall, HSG
These are not the
Leaves of Autumn
These are not the leaves of autumn, these husks;
They died so young, fallen from the summer-burnt oaks
Leaving the lingering limbs barren of green
A struggle of woody cells against the drought
They wear no celebratory colors
Nothing of red or gold to catch the sun
For they died of thirst in their lost-green youth
Never reaching the October they had earned
These are not the leaves of autumn, oh, no
But only shells dry-rattling in the wind
Lawrence Hall, HSG
The Existential Despair in Replacing a Lawnmower Battery
My language is blue and my knuckles bleed -
I can never find the wrench I need!
I bought this tin - which really is made of tin - while in R & R in Hong Kong in 1970. I still make a cuppa from these leaves every few years.
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Tea for Texas
Major General Urquhart: "Hancock, I've got lunatics laughing at me from the woods. My original plan has been scuppered now that the jeeps haven't arrived. My communications are completely broken down. Do you really believe any of that can be helped by a cup of tea?”
Corporal Hancock: “Couldn't hurt, sir.”
-A Bridge Too Far
Bubba Ebarb, of happy memory, required certain specific performances for his several successful restaurants. One of his rules was that the iced tea would never reach the old age of one hour before it was tossed and replaced with a fresh brewing of the refreshing leaf.
This is the sort of value that made him a great success. Unfortunately, such reasonable expectations appear to be rarer now.
Iced tea has been a staple since around the time of the St. Louis Exposition in 1904 (Meet Me in St. Louis) when mechanical ice-making, the existing popularity of tea, an especially hot summer, and thirsty fairgoers together made a historical shift in refreshment.
Once upon a time in Texas a glass of good, fresh iced tea was easily available at any café’ in the Lone Star Republic, but now it’s a little more difficult to find at all and is often a vintage sludge.
Last week I stopped at a Famous Name Fat Foodery in Buffalo, Texas for a refreshing mid-morning cup of the good stuff, and the muffly voice crackling through the grill said that they didn’t have any tea-tea but that their mango tea was really good.
Mango tea.
In Buffalo, Texas.
As Macduff does not say in Macbeth, “Oh, Texas, when wilt thou find thy wholesome ways again!”
Has Texas become a colony of West Hollywood? Is Mission Espiritu Santo at Goliad now a fusion cuisine restaurant specializing in avocado toast? When Cabeza de Vaca and his companions made their epic, years-long trek across Texas did they consider the majesty of the land and its vast spaces and exclaim, “Here we will establish our fruit bars, our incense shops, our therapy spas, our vegetarian Thai takeouts, our tea shops of infused bamboo shoots!”
On down the road I found a big Famous Name Brand truck stop which featured several tanks of iced tea. The first tank oozed out something like an oil change. The second tank dribbled out something even darker and more viscous.
I bought a bottle of water from the cooler.
Look, I’m not a tea snob; I’m even cool with teabags (gasp!). In the winter I like a good cuppa char; just a good black tea / schwarztee, and at all times I’m up for a glass of iced tea, Texas’ national beverage. The essential factor is that the tea is fresh.
Real Texans / Texians / Tejanos / Texicans drink real tea and drink it real fresh. Bubba would expect no less. God bless fresh tea, God bless Bubba Ebarb, and God bless Texas.
-30-
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Watch Where You Step;
There Might be a Senator
But hiss for hiss return’d with forked tongue
-Paradise Lost X.518
The summer heat like judgement on the earth -
It fell upon the roiling afternoon dust
Where two foul snakes in deadly combat writhed
With hiss and strike and hate-spittled fangs
In a world of crunchy grasshoppers and tasty frogs
Of careless bunny rabbits and baby squirrels
The snakes found only their hatred for each other
Until one serpent choked on the other, and both died
And there, my children, is a lesson in brief
About the government of the State of Texas
Will the Plowed Boys
Find Love in the End?
Romantic robots could bring peace to our streets -
The Plowed Boys would have something to fondle
Other than their idle trifles and bang-bang rifles
For in the end they would have dates after all
And will they wear
Their he-man soldier suits and bug-eyed shades
Their he-man soldier toys dangling from carabiners
Their radios and whistles and lip-dangling ciggies
while in bed?
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Joining the Class
Struggle
“Yuri, what splendid words!”
-Anna in Doctor Zhivago
Lift high the red banner, comrades
and comradettes!
Lift high the made-in-China
bullhorns against the rich
Make crudely misspelt signs and block the streets
(How dare the workers work while we’re yelling at them)
Pull down the statue of St. Joan of Arc!
Because she was, like, you know, a Confederate general
And smash the windows of the corporate coffee shops
(Make mine a decolonized double decaf)
Liberate the people’s goods! To arms! To arms!
(But who will stay behind to work the farms?)
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Toys at the Base of
an Oak Tree
“We'll
be Friends Forever, won't we, Pooh?” asked Piglet.
“Even longer,” Pooh answered.
- A. A. Milne
You find them at the base of a tree sometimes:
A pewter knight or a plastic Robin Hood
Or a marble lost in the long-ago
Turned up among the weeds by shifting roots
In the leafy silences of summer a little boy
Practiced the arts of magic and manliness
With Robin Hood and the pewter knight searching for a jewel
To present to their Lady Marian
When he was a little older the boy walked to town
To the bus station, and off to a distant war
A jewel sacrificed to the blasphemy of the State
You’ll find his name at the base of a stone
But the pewter knight and the plastic Robin Hood
And beautiful Lady Marian still wait for him
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Even the Oak Trees
are Dying
“Wildfire…evacuation of nearby residences under way”
-news bulletin
Poor drought-dead leaves in mockery of autumn
Wind-rustle across the lawn as the dried husks they are
Rattling like withered exoskeletons along the dust
Or The Ancient Mariner’s dead sailors upon the deck
The exhausted earth is hot from a summer of drought
Cicadas have no hope in their poor songs
A drifting dragonfly wobbles in its flight
And the weather reports are but cruel teasings
The sour smoke of a month of forest fires
Chokes even the stars, who in despair do not appear
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Another Funeral in
Margaritaville
Introibo ad altare Dei.
Ad Deum qui laetificat juventutem meum.
-Missale Romanum
Of course all our friends are dying away
Old age sneaks up on us, ghosting us in turn:
Yevgeny, Jimmy, Dusty, Judith, Rod, and we
Who blessed each other in our happy youth
But I tell you we have a duty to sing our songs
Our perhaps artless lines lost long ago
Except that they’re not: we gave them to God
And He joined them to Creation for all of us
Of course all our friends are dying away
Except that they’re not
See you
in Margaritaville
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Shelving Children
Instead of Books
“…it is estimated that Germany…destroyed over 100
million books in Europe.”
-Molly Guptill Manning, When Books Went to War, xv
In Texas
We ban children’s books
We don’t ban guns;
And thus we discard
Our daughters and sons
Lawrence Hall, HSG
A Cat is Stillness in Motion
For Tuxedo-Cat
Who Simply Moved in One Day
There is no stillness like a cat
To the laws of physics a stillness unknown
When all is still he is stiller still
Even stiller than a stick or stone
There is no motion like a cat
A silent slink upon delicate paws
A smoke-like current now still again
To eye a chameleon
and sharpen his
claws
Lawrence Hall, HSG
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)
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Did You Grow Up in a
Palace Too?
In Memory of the Palace Theatre
If you were fortunate you grew up in a palace
A Technicolor palace where Robin Hood
Saved England for only twenty-five cents
And the royal feast was popcorn and RC Cola
If you were fortunate you grew up in a palace
Which was so big that the Comanche Nation
Could encircle both a fort and a wagon train
And a candy bar was chuck-wagon stew
If you were fortunate you grew up in a palace
And softly, sweetly found another’s hand
As the cowboys and Indians rode away in peace -
There was a newer magic for you to discover
If you were fortunate you grew up in a palace
In the summertime of your happy youth
Lawrence Hall, HSG
They Make Patriotism
a Dirty Word
“…Devil with Devil damn’d / Firm concord holds…”
-Paradise Lost II, 496-497
How did they make patriotism a dirty word?
A conjuring not of loyalty or love
But rather foul images of bloated men
In bug-eyed shades, knee pants, and slogan tees
Cradling their guns in flabby
tatted arms
Why did they make patriotism a dirty word?
No consideration of what is best for the nation
But rather foul images of treacherous men
In tailored suits and subtle imported ties
Cradling their contempt in Pandaemonian
cant
The Q, the X, mechanical law degrees –
Devil with devil damn’d firm concord holds
Cradling their proud disobedience
before God
