The Hawk Kitchen 1:10pm
My Voice Is Signalling Me
To Write Of The Abomination
That Is Christmas:
How Can I Devour
The Little Children’s Innocence
When They Hear Of Santa
Coming Down A Vaginal Chimney
When They Hear The Living Lie
Of That Baby Jesus
Immaculately Conceived?
The Hawk West Desk Window 10:00pm
My Daughter was born
into a pool of water
and lifted up
like Venus Rising
with a beauty from another world
Eliza’s Out Now
at a drinking party
showing off reindeer sweaters:
She’s in one from Me
and Her Boyfriend’s in one
knitted by My Mother
for Her High School Sweetheart
The Hawk West Desk Window 10:22pm
Our Dry Skin Is
The Star Dust Of Our House
The Cats’ Dander Too
The Tomato-coloured Couch 5:09pm
I have The Embodiment Of Physical Thought
periodically pulsating within Me, in My Gut
just below My Left Rib Cage
It calls My Attention
to whatever activity I am engaged in
— I feel It, The Embodiment, often —
The Thought It Carries
is always happy
It, The Pulsation, is The Tangibility
of Happiness
–
I am looking at A Star
— probably a planet —
and as The Star sets
behind black clouds
I summon It —
— The Sensation —
Happiness
The Hawk Kitchen 2:30pm
I Am The Mystic
Dressed In Green On Green
Silver Medallion On My Chest
Quartz Crystal Question Mark Ring Off
to take out the trash
I Am The Spiritualist
I Am The Occultist
I Am The Seer
Writing With My Silver/Onyx Pen
Quartz Crystal Question Mark Ring On
My Mother’s Random House Dictionary Of The English Language
Unabridged Edition Open
To “Myself”
The Tomato-coloured Couch 4:50pm
I am The Intellectual
sitting cross-legged on My Tomato-coloured Couch
drinking lemon-flavoured seltzer
from My Life Message Glass
–
I gaze from My Central Candle
to The Winter Window
& wonder when My “Good Morning, World!”
will enter every household
The Hawk Living Room 2:43pm
I’ve taken to lighting
A Candle Flame
in the middle of My At-home Day
The Hawk Kitchen 9:27am
I See Life Flicker
On This Coldest Of Mornings:
Birds Among Berries
The Hawk Dining Room 2:00pm
Last night Eliza strung A Garland
out of popcorn & dried orange circles —
She hung It over Our Dining Room Window
with Its view of sky & water
— I stood before It —
The Garland dipped at nose level
I smelled The Smell of Delicacy
I stood back to view
The Subtle Transparency
of One Curling Slice
angled against the clearing clouds
Joanna Gilman Hyde 