Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Month: May, 2013

MAY 31st 1987

The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:30pm

I married Him under apple boughs

on The Island of My Mother

and when She died

six years later

I would love another

I went to see Our Marital House

to see Eliza there

to deliver dishcloths

She was wanting

to see how She had cared

enough to put a sprig of apple

in a bottle neck deep and red

It glowed upon a kitchen sill

I have nothing left to dread

no more hurting husbands

no more dying pets

I am free now

in My Life

even to forget


The Hawk Deck 9:32am

I have seen The Little Grey & Yellow Bird

open Its Beak, twice,

to sing Its Morning Tune

to fly away

& return

to chirp again

and so all is right

in My World

My Painting will lead The Way

to The Global Stabilization

We are awaiting

in Our Hearts

& Mind


The Tomato-coloured Couch 2:15pm

I do not wonder at My Father’s Death —

how It was for Him

as I wonder at My Mother’s

My Father may have been asleep —

He died in the night

as far as I know

but My Mother was wide, wide


& blazed Her Eyes open

except for one torturous blink

which opened back up

in Her Last Guttural Heave


The Tomato-coloured Couch 12:15pm

This Morning My Daughter reported waking

to the song of multitudinous bird-life

the dehumidifier tray was full

but She had no hot water

in The Atlantic House —

My First Marital Home

with Eliza’s Father

Who picked the colours

& built an addition

complete with screened-in porch

off Our New Bedroom

I sat out there in the shelter of the screens

in My Post-Mother’s-Death Depression

& wondered, along with everyone else,

why I was not happy


The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:30pm

She left tonight for Her Cottage —

Eliza’s Cottage — The Atlantic House She partially grew up in

It’s fifteen minutes closer to Her Summer Job

& She took the dehumidifier from The Hawk

to get the dampness out

She took Her Vegan Food from the cupboards

& left most of Her Clothes in Her Closet

The Lincoln She left in was making Its high-pitched scary noise

but She drove away



The Hawk Queen Bed 10:10am

I have witnessed The Mad Attraction

between two particles of hair-like house dust

on the black screen of My Daughter’s Cell Phone:

on The Left was posited a “crinkly” piece —

to Its Right a “straight ” one

I moved My Left Finger to wipe The Pair off

when They Sprung to Life

& Connected

end to end

tip to tip


The Hawk Portico 7:44pm

I have an attitudinal stance

toward The Surf

Its Sound

projects My Hips forward

My Arms are casually folded

My Head juts

from a profile view

I might be sloped like an S

from the back

I would look held in


like The Nautilus


The Hawk Portico 10:22am

Dr. Death

Die For Me

so I can Resurrect You

again & again —


You Will Never Die

though Your Pen Name

has that flare of intimacy

I will Reclaim You

every time You are Exorcised

from My Brain

& We Will Form A Cycle

of Reclamation


& never loss


The Hawk Living Room 10:22pm

That Book Has Been Written Twice

That Book Has Been Written Twice

All 364 Pages Shredded Five Times

That Book Is Still Being Carried Around

I Will Carry That Book Around With Me

For The Rest Of Time

Note: The above text was delivered through

a needle-like pain shooting through the tip

of My Left Big Toe


The Hawk West Desk Window 4:11pm

I have A Voodoo Pain

at the inside of My Left Upper Arm

It’s telling Me to Right Write

telling Me to leave My Tea

telling Me to describe The Pain:

“It’s Itchy, Man!”


not now, not now, not now

is It gonna happen again?

I do want My Tea

I’m gonna go get It —

(came back)

NOW — The Pain came again!

but what am I supposed to Right

— how silly — to be Writing

about Righting

ooh — again!

It’s My Left Upper Arm, Near My Elbow

It’s a panging itch

lasts about a second —

If I could Write anything

what would I Write Right Now?

ooh — It came

what would I Write without losing My Audience?

Only That Which I Am Capable Of Knowing:

My Self

I Write about My Self All The Time

I Love My Self

but I see My Self as only Half —

I went to the bathroom

& The Pain continued

I think It’s telling Me

to keep Writing:

I have another Half

in The Form of A Little Man —

I’m gonna make another Cup Of Tea

I’m back

My Rings were on the sink

I put Them on

I Love My Rings

They’re Mine

They have no Halves

I let in My Black Cat

Astro Jasper Cosmo

He’s All Mine

though My Husband Loves Him Too

My Tea is steeping

I haven’t felt another Voodoo Pain

I’ll go check My Tea

Look at all the “I’s”

going Write down this page!