by Joanna Gilman Hyde

My Hawk Bedroom 9:15am

I used to have a special couch

Where I would sit to think —

I sometimes dressed to play the part

Of a woman who doesn’t drink.

She wore The Cloth of Oprah crepe

And silver to her bows

She demanded attention

From anywhere

To address the world’s woes

Her husband thought she

Paraded around —

He didn’t like her trot.

Up in The Corner Room

She sat with him

Upon a pull-out cot

They talked, they bantered

It got hardly anywhere —

And then for his commanding

Flare he broke to solid ground:

“Can I fuck the persona?”

Was all he asked —

And she stepped outside

Her Gown