The Hawk West Desk Window 7:52pm
I have watched The Sun
born out from under a ridge
of grey cloud —
a colour I want to call
purple —
into the clear light
between, now, the upper ridge
and a lower bank
where The Sun burns
Its way down, a molten sphere
into a bottom line of ocean islands
I want to call grey
The Tomato-coloured Couch 6:35pm
Did You Know China
is advertising on Chinese Television
for The People — yes, The Chinese
— All 1.3 Billion Of Them —
TO BUY GOLD?!
Why isn’t Our Half Of The World
advertising The Affordable Gold
I call SILVER?? I call
for SILVER to Shine
on Our Big Black Screens
for less than $22.00 an ounce —
I am screaming for
This Monetary Agent
used in electronics, solar panels
in medicine as
an anti-bacterial agent —
I am screaming for
This Planet’s Adult-hood
East & West
to be refined into The Brilliance
OF THE ELEMENT OF SILVER
Showering Down On All Of Us
Bathing Us In Its Gleaming Purity
Of Knowledge Of Ourselves
As Human Beings
Subject To Tarnish
Object To Polish
and back
again
The Hawk West Desk Window 12:30pm
I just made a bed
for The Procreation Of Humanity:
I spread out a dark brown bottom fitted sheet
and picked off The Galaxies
stuck there —
I overlaid the top sheet — dark purple
tucked it under the queen-size mattress
& filled the matching pillow cases
with very old pillows
The Comforter went over last —
old too because of the occupancy
of cats
The Hawk West Desk Window 4:56pm
The tidal outlet
of The Hawk Inlet
is wet with low tide
sheening silver
before the dunes
of The Cape
silhouetted against a silver ocean
seated — I or The Ocean?
through
My Window
Screen
The Hawk Basement 3:22pm
I was going to write
a poem
listing My Psychiatric Diagnoses
but I decided
to make Potato Salad
instead
*maverick psychiatrist/author (1920 — 2012)
The Myth of Mental Illness
Schizophrenia: The Sacred Symbol of Psychiatry
The Hawk Portico 2:48pm
I have Poetry Clothes
Invalid Clothes
Black Jesus Clothes
& Something for The Silver Christ
borrowed from The Invalid Ensemble:
My Thick Grey Robe
worn as My
“at home” attire
seen by My Husband, My Daughter
(She picked It out)
several carpenters
& maybe neighbours
when I take out
the trash
The Hawk Dining Room 2:07pm
I ate a pork sandwich
made a cup of tea
put on My Poetry Clothes
— I’m on the last load
of laundry —
& like Magic
(it was the pork sandwich)
I am well
The Hawk Deck 10:46am
I’m on The Knife Edge Of Happiness
I could whine & have My Doctor Husband
stay home from work
with Me
but We would only talk
circuitously
I would still hear the birds
only through My anxious
stomach
The Hawk Outpost 5:15pm
A Springtime Haze
lies East over the water
— I will not be seeing
The Ocean this evening —
but I have just seen
A Flock Of Six Geese
— at least I think
They were Geese —
flying along the shore
against The Light
of The Sun
in transit
The Hawk West Desk Window 9:26pm
I once had someone ask Me
“Joanna, are You A Perfect Person?”
I answered with The Perfect Answer
“Sometimes.”
I have always been
in A State Of Perfection
I have always existed
and The State Of Existence Is Perfect
when I die I will have
The Perfect Death
I will fly away to the stars
My Spirit will impregnate
again
the egg of someone new
and I will grow once more
into A Being with A Mind
into A Human with A Destiny
different from
My Own
Joanna Gilman Hyde 