Saturday, July 21, 2018

M. Poncy Hector-Tworbst, B.A., M.Ed., Ph.D. Candidate, Speaks - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com

On the Packing of Intersectionality: A Cross-Cultural Study

By M. Poncy Hector-Tworbst, B.A., M.Ed., Ph.D. Candidate

Unpack that intersectionality
And privilege transphile autonomy
Unite the paradigm’s hegemony
In the diaspora of agency

Cross-gender all peripherality
In post-colonial diversity
Dialogue augmented reality
And deconstruct avatar identity

All for the cause of authenticity
(But mostly I’m all about me, me, me)

Friday, July 20, 2018

A Summer Afternoon at 209 East Huisache Avenue - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com

A Summer Afternoon at 209 East Huisache Avenue

Kingsville, Texas, 1955

A loaf of bread from the Piggly Wiggly
A quart of milk because MawMaw forgot
A Coke and a Mickey Mouse funnybook
A water pistol and Eskimo Pies

A pack of PawPaw’s brand of cigarettes
So he can watch his Yankees this afternoon
On the Sylvania with the rabbit ears
In gloriously static-y black-and-white

Plays called by Dizzy Dean and PeeWee Reese
In our childhood world, forever at peace

Thursday, July 19, 2018

Two Middle-Aged Youth Ministers in a Convertible - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com


Two Middle-Aged Youth Ministers in a Convertible

Two middle-aged youth ministers (perhaps)
In a convertible babble away
A dialogue but poorly understood
By a seeker wanting a burger and fries
                                                and truth

Their message seems to be that a pilgrim
In search of meaning might find happiness
                                                and lunch
At a famed neon-y fast-foodery
And so I gird up my billfold and I go

I push the red votive button and wait
And wait
                And wait
                                And wait
                                                And wait
                                                                And wait

And in the end go empty away

Wednesday, July 18, 2018

Syllabus for a Summer Day - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com


Syllabus for a Summer Day

Awaken with the sun, and while thin mist
Slinks eerily across the fields, step out -
Labor across the dewy grass, near ripe
For the second cutting of summer hay

The lesson for today is clearing brush
Along the fence lines of both fields and life
The attendance check is for needed tools:
Old gloves, old boots, old saw, and fresh new verse

Awaken with the sun, honor the day
With work and play to earn a grade of A

Alternative Syllabus for a Summer Day

Ignore the stupid sun; go back to sleep
Reject the chatter of the alarming beep
And waken at a reasonable Christian hour –
Oh, ten will do; earlier is so sour!

Then bathrobe-shuffle to the coffee pot
See what is on the news, or maybe not
And scratch and yawn and look around to see
That nothing has changed since last night at three

Ignore all work; just stick it on the shelf
And for my grade, I’ll happily take an F!

Tuesday, July 17, 2018

Provide Yourself with Words - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com

Provide Yourself with Words

Tollite vobiscum verba, et convertimini ad Dominum

-Osee 14:3 1

Provide yourself with words, with magic words,
And like Old Väinämöinen 2 sing them
Into the air, the wild, clean air, those words
Sing all that’s Good and Beautiful and True

The Sampo 2 of your mind spins not out flour
Nor salt nor gold, but needful thoughts and songs
In words that sing and sail beyond the sun
And back into that Founding whence they came

Write, then, the Good, the Beautiful, the True
And let God write them back again to you



1 Osee / Hosea
2 The Kalevala

Monday, July 16, 2018

If You Don't Have a Guitar, Are You Permitted to Pose for Publicity Photos on a Railway Line? - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com

An Existential Issue for Many Writers: If You Don’t Have a Guitar,
Are You Permitted to Pose for Publicity Photos on a Railway Line?

His battered old laptop slung across his back
That famous laptop with the sticker that reads
In font Albertus “This Machine Kills Haters”
He poses rustically on a railway line

His happenin’ hipster hat pulled ‘way down low
Over the deep-souled Eyes That Have Seen It All
While his slender, artistic fingers seem
To flutter in search of existential truth

(Or maybe two forms of identification)

While off camera a cop writes him a ticket
For trespassing on railway property

Sunday, July 15, 2018

Of That Ilk (or, perhaps, Ilk Hunting) - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com

Of That Ilk

For three Voices

First Voice:

What is an ilk?

Second Voice:

Well, they got ‘em up in Montana, you know,
And Canada, and them countries like that
And they got horns and stuff; you can hunt ‘em
They make good eatin’, or that’s what they say

Third Voice:

Naw, man, ilks is what attaches to boats
That’s why you got to scrape the hulls each year
They’re kinda like sea urchins or barnacles
They make good eatin’, or that’s what they say

First Voice:

I read about ilks in the op-eds each day -
They make good eatin’, or that’s what they say