10:22pm/10:22
by Joanna Gilman Hyde
The Hawk West Desk Window 10:22pm
I was That Ballet Dancer
twirling madly in any psychiatrist’s fantasy
exposing My 101 Split-second Facial Expressions
aimed at an imaginary upper corner Camera —
or was It Imaginary?
in a room of no furnishings
except for one rubber mattress
repeatedly blanketed over
by Me
to grow a garden
of hair & spit
before My Assemblage
got
WRECKED-ified