Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

This Morning

Watched the sun rise twice

First from ocean horizon

Then from narrow clouds

Air Show

Flock of geese honking

Overhead to where? To me

My flight of music

Colour Fast

Eye am off

The Silver & Steel Blue

of Dr Blair’s hair

& Eyes

Eye am on

to the riches of russet

ruby chestnut, warmth

in that telling array of red

& brown

to be found now brimming my heart

& Eye have chosen a dress

of the deepest luminosity

in that sacred range

to wear on the night of my taking

Hitting On My Dream

The man of my dream

Has hair the colour

Of this month’s roadside

Tree stalks and shrubbery

Sandy cinnamon red

Driven through

In afternoon sun

As I set out to find him:

The engineer for my art

My giant Canadian maple leaf

Staying Power

Eye don’t have to leave

My House

The House on The Hawk

I fought for in Court

unrepresented —

Eye don’t have to leave

Cape Sable Island

for idyllic privacy

on the ocean in Jordan Bay

Eye have the ocean

lots of it

here

Eye don’t have to listen

to friends, ex-friends

who say I should get

“a fresh start”

Eye am in My Fresh Start

here

where Eye have come into My Own

as an established artist

happy in my morning studio

dreaming of my love

in bed @ night

who alone holds the option

of uprooting me

The Social Modulator

That’s Me —

caught between two worlds:

Our Earth with Its mutidudinous

religions —

and the Extraterrestrial Domain

of Our Heavens —

EYE do NOT believe in Hell,

or Mr. D’evil,

or Evil incarnate —

EYE do NOT believe in Sin,

though Eye carry Christ’s message

and EYE am a MEAT EATER,

solid disciplinarian

non-sports enthusiast

all-around artist

and purveyor of ULTRAVISION

The Dr’s Dream Girl

He loved me ill

He loved me sick

He took My Hand

I took His Dick

It was Dr Blair

Who made Me Come

Oh that Hunter!

What a Bum

The Agreement

Two months ago

Eye wrote “The End of A Marriage”

How endless

as I saw him gaunt

guarding his door

against my onslaught:

“This has GOT to end”

He agreed.

Final Fuck

He slammed The Book

on me

in the twilight of His Room

lit by one tranquillity candle

in blue-scented quiet

His Slam rang out

right next to me

Open Letter to Dr James Chandler

Dear Jimbo:

Are you ever going to return my phone calls?

Are you still praying for me?

Well you don’t have to any more.

No thanks to you

and your drugs

and your illegal hospitalizations

Eye am back to making art

as proficiently as I was in art school

and you’ll never see it.

Sincerely

Your former “patient”

Joanna