Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Month: October, 2017

Mid Night

My Daughter’s Life

Encapsulates the schism

In mine

Since my mother died

In that spring of ’93 —

Eliza has been there

In body

Since Eye conceived Her

In the picture

Of My Mind

Since that April of Emptiness

She has been with me

For Our Two Decades

Of toil and strife:

My beautiful Beauty

Who can manage

Her Life


Seeking Exhibit Space

Does anyone know where eye could find a big public interior space where Stratospheric Universe (600 square feet) could be viewed on a floor and from a second storey parapet?

Eliza’s Birthday

This morning after last night’s rain

Eye stooped to scoop

The water off

My Stratospheric Universe 

Eye stepped and Squirt!

Another element

Amongst the 3 – dimensional


Friday The 13th

In the course of the setting sun

Eye have gone from

A bare-legged, sun-glassed


In my un-shaded living room window

To the lone light

In an upper storey


On the cover

Of an old Victorian novel

My Shorts Are The Colour of Green Tea Ice Cream

He said It was like eating

Ice cream —

Too much and you wouldn’t

Like It anymore.

He said It up in his parents’

Green Room —

Night Shift

Last night I saw Big

Dipper in the Northwest Sky —

This morning it tipped



The October sunrise

Has not happened yet —

Eye am writing in the twilight

Of my event —

Venus is suspended

Above unwarmed clouds

And the ocean shoreline

Is silhouetted

With sparse spruce

And one roof

With a complimentary porch light






How Was YOUR Day?

Eye went around today

Dressed like Alice In Wonderland

Looking for a home

For Stratospheric Universe 

And encountered two televisions:

One in a car dealership

With a man-eating volcano

Which turned into a contemporary


(with commercials showing sick chemo patients) —

And one in a great grandmother’s kitchen

Showing Scottish and Irish gangsters

Exclaiming “fuck” (repeatedly)

In the 1800’s


I have made my bed for men


Who have yet to come

Up from my depths

To greet

My smile


From the belt

Of Orion


Eye have driven, pounded

Through the flames of my desire —

Fog has floated in

Around me now

And the peak of my orange/ red

Has been left behind

For some other star-struck