The poetry graveyard
They call delete
Millions of words written
None shall meet.
Sentences
nouns and verbs
All forgotten
Never to be disturbed.
Poetry written
not to be read
Into the graveyard
Along with the dead.

Outdoor trash can
Six gift bags with silk flowers in it
As it drizzled it was ckwar somebody who yearned for a card or a phone call on Mother's day would have loved those flowers
Now they are on their way to a landfill
Sadly

Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                      The Evil of Banality

                       As Hannah Arendt did not exactly say

Handcuffs with their metallic efficiency
Leather-holstered on polished *****-belts
Distinguish more a grab with their subtle cachet
Than low-Prole zip ties in disposable bags

The wrists of citizens handcuffed without warrants
By an official wrist encircled with
The gift of a Rolex from Mister Big
Who will never countenance the arrest of his sons

Handcuffs should click as tastefully, you see
As the door of an unmarked SUV

So you know how sometimes when you start to give up on humanity
someone wonderful happens?
Like when you just walking somewhere and a stranger says that they like your outfit
Or someone that you've never before smiles and waves
And you think that maybe
People aren't so bad?

My idea of a successful life
Is to be that person
As many times as I can

I feel the world at
   times conspires to make true my
basic discontent.