Lawrence Hall
[email protected]Dispatches for the Colonial Office
(Written several days before the events of 24-25 March 2025)
The Brass-Elevator Mountaineer
A weak imitation of
Osip Mandelstam
Of whom let us pray, “Memory eternal”
Our lives no longer sense truth around them
In our ewails we are afraid of each other’s words
But whenever there’s an eye-rolled whisper
It’s about the brass-elevator mountaineer
The ten tiny worms of his fingers
His words like mountains of loot
The waving tendrils atop his head
The glitter of his shiny Tesla
Wheels stained with a **** of groveling bosses
He toys with the tributes of his house pets:
One clenches his fisties
Another salutes
A third pledges eternal loyalty
He pokes out his fingers and grabs ‘em by their
_He magic-markers mass deportations:
Three hundred or more for El Salvador
A hundred or so for Guantanamo
Uncounted hundreds to disappear
From routine check-ins here
“Your search has returned zero (0) matching records”
He rolls the possibilities of
_ ___ on his tongue like diet sodas
He wishes he could deport his former best friends forever
On some devices "****" in line 9 is rendered by the AI as ****. I don't know why.