The Hawk Corner Room
Eye would infinitely prefer
To see the deep orange
Of Self Organizing Galaxy
At dawn along the moonlit blue
Of The Atlantic
Than The Western Sky
At evening which is only going
To disappear
My Bedroom 5:50am
see “Story of a Map”
Using the back of my car
Protected by an old lavender sheet
From Eliza’s bed
Eye am gathering cans of paint
Mostly full
From the well-organized
Waste Management Facility
On the 103
And stacking them
Rust and all
On my front portico
Where I once sat
Like a statue
Contemplating a former life
My Bedroom 8:50pm
Eye will wear the famous
Black Oprah Dress
From so long ago —
He will wear white
And sit across from me
@ my round marble table
Faded from
The Eastern Light
Of my never years
The Hawk Corner Room 5:40am
What sweeter sound
To be awakened by
Than the song of a bird
Or a lover’s kiss?
The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 5:25am
Eye see The Hawk
Skyline:
Silhouetted tree tops
Individuals
Against the dawning North —
Heights
of The Srub Spruce
I had never considered
My Bedroom 6:05am
My external bundle of white
Thick cotton Terry cloth robe
From Hammacher Schlemmer
IS my mountain of pain relief —
The Opiate
The Antidote
before people
die
The Hawk Kitchen 5:30pm
Today I cried out
In my repetitive voice
For the immortal flesh
Of Silver
Which descends from my mind
And not anybody else’s
Because it came to me
When I was unafraid —
I have it in spirit
In vision
But I am in need
Desperate need
Of its weight
In hand
The Hawk Kitchen 5:15pm
There’s a new notion of God
Afoot
It has to do with you
Whether you believe or not
The concept is rising
Through the crowds at night
It has to do with sex —
Did I say it right?
The Hawk Kitchen 4:40pm
Today I sat in The Brilliant Sun
With open door
Just for fun
I sat before a wall of brick
And no one came
To buy my trick
I soon got bored
And drove away
But not before
I vowed to sell
My soul off
To posterity
The Hawk Kitchen 4:11pm
No wonder Van Gogh
Cut off his ear!
I feel like cutting off
My left breast
And serving it up
To grace my supper
Of left-over
— You got it! —
Chicken breast
Sauteed in my husband’s
Favourite sauce
Joanna Gilman Hyde 