The Gravitas of Our Vice-Presidential Candidates - a poem, but not a very good one

  

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

The Gravitas of Our Vice-Presidential Candidates

 

In the end it was the worst speaker of the lot who received the most applause. People made no effort to follow him and merely roared approval at his every word…

 

Doctor Zhivago, p. 36

 

Like high school boys behind the old school gym

In micturic dispute about distance and size

Two men exchange puerile scurrilities

A pair of puffed-up potty-mouthed posers

 

They know all about army guns ‘n’ stuff

Each hero manque’ stuffier than the other

About their ranks and tanks and thousand-yard-stares

And whose AR is the bigger one

 

Like high school boys behind the old school gym –

And why must we the people put up with them?

Four Fresh Limes - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Four Fresh Limes

 

When my neighbor left four fresh limes at my door

The universe did not hold its breath

Camouflage Caps for Good Comrades - inferior doggerel

  

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

 Camouflage Caps for Good Comrades

 

The Presidency Really is For Sale

 

No bibles with the words of Roosevelt in red

Cleveland was above merchandising (perhaps)

There was never a Kennedy bobblehead

Lincoln never peddled tatty baseball caps

 

But now:

 

A Trumpy sippy-cup sounds about right

Let’s pray with autographed J.D. rosaries

Uncle Fester as G. I. Joe ready to fight

And personalized Kamala wind-up teethies

 

A rueful conclusion:

 

Few remember when our Presidency

Was a public trust of grace and dignity

Comparing our Secret Service with Barney Fife is Inappropriate - doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Comparing our Secret Service with Barney Fife is Inappropriate

 

Because we love and respect Deputy Fife

 

In art, incompetence can have a certain charm

But in stupid men with guns the charm is lacking

Our agents can’t even keep themselves from harm

Their greatest skills are in shacking and slacking

 

Colombian floozies and slanting roofs

Unman the best of them; they lose their guns

They lose laptops, but never their 90-proof

And break into private property for poopy runs

 

To them a President entrusts his life –

He’d surely be safer with Deputy Barney Fife

 

Night of the Murdered Jewish Poets - poem

  

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Night of the Murdered Jewish Poets

 

12 August 1952

 

When a tyrant has completed his catalogue of hate

Sent thousands to the noose and millions to the pyre

He ponders fresh murders as he sits up late

Whom else can he summon to his satanic fire?

 

There is agony in his soul – someone must pay

Those scribblers of verse – now there is treason

Another list, a list, without delay!

Poets to the Lubyanka – I need no reason!

 

I listen, I hear my night-whispering muse:

“Death is upon you, death, but first, but first…

  

                  the Jews.”

Why Are the Presidential Candidates Yelling at Us? - doggerel

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

Why Are the Presidential Candidates Yelling at Us?

 

The candidates bluster and scream on TV

But I will never vote for anyone, you see,

Whose concept of leadership is yelling at me        

And Suddenly My Feet Were Splashed with Conoco Gasoline

 While fueling at a Conoco station this morning my feet were suddenly splashed with gasoline. I was standing by the filler but not looking at it. 

I was only slightly annoyed (old shoes, so no biggie) and went inside to advise the clerk so that she could be aware of this safety matter.  However, she only paused long enough from eating her sandwich to ask which pump and to say that she would tell her boss. No apology, no thank-you, no nothing except the chewing of a sandwich

Given the indifference, I went ahead and reported the matter, which was not my original intent. I asked corporate for credit for that gallon or so of gas on the ground.