Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Month: September, 2015


The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 7:28pm

“Hi Joanna — what U doin’ Today?”

“Imma Usherin’ in The New Age.”

“The New Age of What?”

“The New Age of Silver –what else?”

“How U doin’ that?”

“With how I deck My Body

& how I deck My Mind.”

“What d’ya mean?”

“My Mind is My Body

& My Jewels are My Accent.”


The Hawk Queen Bed 8:11am

The Jay boasts The Song

of My Growing Up

in Valley Cottage, New York

where I played in woods

behind My House

& zoomed up a hill

from The Bus

after school


The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 8:41pm

I am a Star Traveller

rigged out with My Silver Wrists

& stretch pants, grey —

I will fly with My Life’s Companion

& leave My Big Black Scare-dee Cat, Astro

behind —

so I’ll come



The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 12:50pm

The White Man Came

upon Indian (Native) soil

& took possession

with trinkets & knives

& drink

from another land

to stake a claim

to the ruination

of Fundamental



The Hawk Queen Bed 4:02am

I draw a blank

when I try to remember

My Dreams —

but The One I’m living out

is with Me


Learning to Die


My political science professor says
to study philosophy is to learn to die.

Like the good pupil I am,
I experiment with stillness.
I slow my breathing until it stops completely,
my pulse growing softer and fainter,
a clock with a stalled tick.
I am Captain Hook’s crocodile,
a swallower of time.
It tastes metallic, I bite down,
then it tastes like blood in the mouth.

(Is this right?
Am I doing this right?)

Like an engine, I experiment with stopping and starting.
I move my fingers, one at a time, I twitch,
kicking in the coffin.

I listen to the dying voices outside my door
(they whisper like wind chimes on a breezeless day)
I listen to the dying music beneath my floor
(it climaxes and falters and sputters and dissipates)

I practice dying so that one day, when I meet God,
He will be impressed with the elegance…

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The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 8:22am

From My Kitchen Coffee Station

I can see an array

of stars

on My Outpost Window Screen

The Sun beams in

& as I approach the opening

the glinting droplets disappear

only to reveal

a spider


The Hawk Queen Bed 10:22am

Spread out before Me

is My Unmade Bed

covered in rubbery white

against spills —

I see The Hairs of Life

embedded as the Theory

of Strings & Galaxies

against Our Backdrop

of Infinity


The Hawk Queen Bed 9:35pm

I laid a birthday card

for a friend

inside My Mother’s

Random House Dictionary


between witch-elm

and woman of the street

to be found


when I’m dead


The Hawk Dining Room 1:11pm

EYE have just seen

the most extraordinary thing

against M(EYE) Dining Room

window pane EYE saw

Two House FL(EYE)S

apparently mating

& when They separated

One remained & pulsated

a penis?

& extruded a spot of clear serum

upon the glass

EYE had just cleaned

this morning